The Painting
by Piper1019
Summary: Trapt in a cursed painting with no where to go and the creator insists there is no way out. Do you face the pain, misery, discomfort, hate, fear and death found in life or do you allow your mind to live forever in the perfect world... without your body?
1. Default Chapter

A/N: This will be a D/Hm fic. So if you don't like that…sorry. Not quite sure as to whether it will be romance yet. It could go either way. Maybe just friendship, we'll see how it goes.

Disclaimer: I only own what you have never heard of before. If it looks familiar then it's not mine.

****

Prologue

She stared at the blank canvas before her as though all of her problems were leering back at her. She couldn't stand it all anymore. Everything in her life seemed to be going wrong at exactly the same time. It was almost as if someone had cursed her behind her back. As if someone had let open a black hole and it was sucking all of the happiness out of her. It was taking everything she had ever known and loved and destroying it or making it unbearable.

………

__

"Miss Hawkeye, would you care to explain why you do not have your presentation on Ancient Egyptian Animals ready for today? I clearly told you last week that today would be your presentation," Mr. Batterson, the Care of Magical Creatures professor asked glaring in her direction.

"B-but Sir, today is the ninth. You said my presentation was on the tenth," she replied slightly hysterically.

"Why don't you check your calendar again, Miss Hawkeye. Today IS the tenth," he sneered.

A quick glance around showed her nothing but sniggering faces.

"Ten points from Slytherin, for your complete incompetence."

She held back the tears as the Gryffindors in the class cheered while her own housemates gave her looks of disgust.

"Some Head Girl she is," she heard one mutter.

………

"Dear Miss Hawkeye,

I am sorry to inform you that your father has passed away due to an incurable form of nargle-mumps.

Sincerely,

Healer Richmond

St. Mungo's

………

"Fiona, what is troubling you?" Carl asked playing with her hair in the common room. "It is most unlike you to forget something as important as a presentation."

"I don't know. With patrolling and Quidditch every other night, I just lost track of the days, I suppose," she replied heaving a heavy sigh.

"I know what can make you feel better," he whispered suggestively and began to kiss her.

She pushed him away softly. "Not now. I just…no, not now."

Carl did not look happy at all. "I do not know what has gotten into you. You are…different. And if you can not even talk to me, what shall I think?"

"It's not you, Carl. It's just…everything seems to be going wrong. And I mean everything. I break my wrist, I forget the presentation, we lost the Quidditch cup to Ravenclaw and it was all my fault, I did ghastly on my N.E.W.T.S, even the Wizard Chess Club has called for a new president as I have been too busy, I failed our potions, charms and transfiguration finals…my father. And now you."

"Well, if I am such a bother then perhaps you should rid yourself of me." With that, Carl stood up from the couch and began walking towards his dorm. He was at the foot of the stairs when he turned around, "I could have any girl in this castle, but I chose you. And this is what I get."

………

Now, half blinded by tears she continued to stared at the blank canvas and remember the worst days of her life. She looked once out of the window, and began to paint.

With every stroke she placed on the canvas, she remembered the way her life used to be. It was perfect. She had the perfect family, the perfect boyfriend, she was captain and seeker for the best team at school and she was happy. But all that happiness seemed to have been ripped from her and shredded to pieces.

__

No more, she thought as she painted. _This will be my new world. It will be more perfect than my life ever was. No worries, no problems, no responsibilities…just me and forever_.

She finished in an hour and stood back to admire her beautiful new world. It was, in a word, perfect.

The small blue cottage stood right in the middle of the frame. It was just big enough for her and no one else. The cottage was surrounded by her favorite flowers…roses. Red, white, pink and even yellow roses surrounded the cottage on all sides. Even the small cobble stoned path leading to the wooden door was lined with roses. Next to the cottage was a gigantic oak tree, perfect for climbing. Behind the cottage was a small pond, perfect for swimming. And surrounding the flowers and the cottage was a field full of perfect grass. But beyond the cottage and the tree and the pond and the field was the forest. The forest which she had purposefully painted dark and horrifying to remind her of what lay beyond the happiness and perfection; pain, misery, discomfort, hate, fear and death. All the things she never wanted to deal with again.

She let the painting dry while she wrote a letter to anyone who would care.

__

If you knew and understood everything that was happening in my life, then you would understand why I must leave. Everything was ruined. But fear not for where I will go, I shall be truly happy…forever.

Love always,

Fiona

The paint was nearly dry. All she had to do was write the incantation. She took out her wand and carved the words deep into the wooden frame along the bottom.

It read: _Transportos celebro mi mundo perfecto infinite. Nunquam regresar; _(Transport my mind to my perfect world. Never to return.)

She sat on her bed placing the painting directly in front of her. She stared at her dream world and read the incantation while pointing her wand at the painting. When she finished, the painting glowed bright white for a second before returning to normal.

She took one last glance around her room, at what she would be leaving behind.

She read the incantation. Instantly, her mind was taken to her perfect worldThe body, however, cannot live without the mind.

Fiona Hawkeye was found by her roommates. She was pronounced brain-dead at St. Mungo's when her body arrived. All she had left behind was a short note and a beautiful painting of a small blue cottage with a smiling girl standing right in front.

Feeling that they should respect Fiona's memory, after all she was always a model student, they hung her painting in the busiest corridor of the school so that all may admire her work.

Every so often over the years, but not too frequently, the body of a student would be found under Fiona's painting…dead, or seemingly so, but no one could figure out why. This gave rise to rumors of a curse and the painting along with Fiona even got mentioned in Hogwarts: A History.

The first time Fiona received a visitor, she was shocked to say the least. It was the first person ever to be in the painting besides her and it happened just a few short days after she had entered the painting herself.

………

__

"Hello? Is anyone here?" a the nervous voice of a girl called from outside the cottage.

Fiona peaked her head out of the window in her cottage and was startled to see a girl there, her age wearing school robes. She knew her. "Adler?" she asked perplexed, for the girl was Genevieve Adler a chaser for the Hufflepuff team. "How did you get here?"

"Fiona? Fiona Hawkeye? But…you died! What is going on? Where am I?!"

Fiona motioned Genevieve into the cottage and calmly explained everything. It was nice to have someone to talk to. But Genevieve did not share Fiona's views.

"I am very sorry you feel that way, Fiona, but I want to leave."

"You can't," said Fiona simply. "How exactly did you get in here again?"

"Well, I was standing in front of your picture and I was about to charm closed a rip in my robes when I saw the incantation. I was with Sarah and she had her wand out so she used it to point at the garden. I said it and the painting glowed. Sarah got scared and left. She urged me to do the same but I was curious so I read the incantation to myself again trying to figure out what it meant and I ended up in here. Wait a minute…what do you mean I can't leave?"

"I never made a counter curse. The incantation says nunquam regresar which means 'never to return.'"

"B-but my friends and my family! I don't want to die!" screeched Genevieve becoming hysteric.

Fiona, however talked in her same soothing and calm voice. "Your body doesn't die, it simply stays in a comatose state until the mind returns because the body cannot function without the mind. But when the find you, they'll think you are dead. It's only a matter of time before they bury you. So even in if you could get out, would you really want to wake up in a coffin…under ground?"

"You are crazy! How can I get out?!"

"I already told you."

"I WILL NOT STAY HERE!"

"Then leave."

"How?!" asked Genevieve exasperatedly.

Fiona shrugged.

"What about the forest? What is beyond that?"

"The Dark Forest is filled with pain, misery, discomfort, hate, fear and death," Fiona answered in a monotone voice.

"Yes, but what is BEYOND it?"

"I don't know. And I shall never know."

"Well, I am going. It could be a way out. Perhaps one just needs to get past it all to go back."

"You will not make it through. But if you must try…make hast, I suspect they have found your body already."

Genevieve got up and ran out of the cottage. Fiona followed her and watched from the side of the pond as Genevieve hesitated outside of the forest.

Mere seconds after Genevieve was out of sight…Fiona heard her scream.

"I tried to warn her. Perhaps the pain was too much…it is always to much." Then Fiona went for a swim.

………

From then on, whenever someone entered the painting it was the same. Fiona would explain her case and they would all come to the conclusion that the forest was the way out. Sometimes it would be a whole minute before she heard the person scream, but nevertheless…she always heard a scream. Even if the person managed to get by the pain, there was still misery in their way, along with the other horrible things that could be found in life.

"Tis better to stay in a painting," Fiona found herself saying to her visitors. "Nothing bad will ever happen."

As the years passed, the mysterious deaths beneath the painting became less frequent. This could be because people now avoided the painting after hearing of the curse, or it could also be that layers of dust now covered the cryptic incantation.

But…

what if the dust was wiped off…

and the incantation was activated once more…

It has been nearly four hundred years since Fiona has had a visitor…

What will she do when she gets two?

This idea popped into my head and I had to write it. I hope it sounds as intriguing as it did in my head. I'll update depending on the responses I get. Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Dealing with Pain

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

Chapter 2

The prefects meeting was way too long and now she would be late for transfiguration. Of course, it wasn't as if she would get in trouble. After all, she did have a perfectly valid excuse. However, she might miss some of the more important parts of the lesson.

She gathered her things quickly and headed for the door. _I should take the old corridor on the fourth floor. It'll save me at least three minutes,_ she thought as she headed out of the room.

But before she made it out the door she was roughly shoved out of the way.

"Out of my way, Mudblood."

"Bite me, ferret," she said bitingly over her shoulder as she turned to go in the opposite direction.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, glaring at the back of a retreating bushy head. _Where the hell does she think she's going? _he thought. _Wherever it is…she'll be alone. Time to teach her a lesson._

He followed slowly behind at first but sped up when he saw that she was practically running to class. She led him down an unfamiliar corridor. It was very old and looked like no one had even walked through it for years. He was getting bored and he decided that there was no better time than the present.

"Mudbloooood!" he called in a sing-song voice from behind her.

She whirled around already clutching her wand beneath her robes and she saw him walking slowly forward. He kept walking until he was right next to her and she had to turn to face him, their backs were to the walls.

"I'm warning you, Ferret. If you so much as twitch I'll hex you into the next century," she said pulling out her wand and pointing it directly at his chest.

"How dare you point your wand at me you insolent little bug!" he spat maliciously.

His tone made her courage waver for a moment and she took a step backward.

"Ow!" she shrieked as her head hit something hard. She turned around and saw that it was the edge of a very old wooden frame which belonged to an equally old painting. It was quite lovely. A small blue cottage was in the middle surrounded by roses of every color. A big tree was next to it and there was even a pond. There was also a girl. She was by herself in front of the cottage. She looked very happy.

__

It looks so peaceful, she thought as she stared. But she was soon broken out of her little day dream when she heard Draco's annoying snickering from behind her.

"Shut it, Malfoy," she snapped.

In one swift movement he had walked over, grabbed her and slammed her against the painting. Her shoulder brushed against the frame and the wood dug into her skin. She kicked him hard in the shin and he recoiled back slightly looking daggers at her.

"You bitch!" he yelled.

She rubbed her arm gently where it had hit the frame and her hand came back with dust and a lot of it. She looked back at the painting and she could see where her shoulder had been dragged across it.

There was something there, under the dust. They were carvings of some sort but she couldn't make them out. She used the sleeve of her robes and wiped the rest of the dust away, revealing as clear as day an incantation. Her curiosity was peaked.

"Transportos celebro mi mundo perfecto infinite. Nunquam regresar," she read softly to herself trying to decipher the meaning.

She was almost blinded when the painting glowed an intense white before it subsided again.

"What the hell was that?" she heard Draco say from behind her.

She turned around and saw him with his wand out pointing straight at her.

"That's funny," he shrugged. "Here I was trying to figure out the most painful, _legal_ curse I could use on you and I make the painting light up. You're one lucky Mudblood."

He walked over to where she was and pushed her out of the way to get a better look. "What's this," he said more to himself than to her. "It looks like Latin," he observed, "very old Latin."

Hermione, however, wasn't looking at the painting anymore but at the small, bronze, very undetectable plaque next to it.

__

Painting by Fiona Hawkeye, Slytherin Head Girl, seeker, 1596.

That sounded very familiar. Where had she heard that name before?

Draco was still trying to figure out what the incantation meant. "Transportos celebro mi mundo perfecto infinite," he whispered.

__

Fiona Hawkeye, Fiona…wait…Fiona's painting! Of course, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History. But what did it say? Something about the students…they were found…oh my god!"

"Malfoy, don't read it!" she yelled as she grabbed his arm.

It was like waking up from a nightmare.

Her head hurt and she was breathing rapidly. As her senses came back one by one she felt her hand clutching something. She opened her eyes slowly and was almost blinded by the intense sunlight. When her eyes were accustomed to the new light she was able to see what she was holding on to.

It was and arm.

She gasped as she saw Draco lying next to her in the grass. She let go of his arm and tried to remember what had happened.

She was at the prefects meeting. Then she was going to class. Malfoy was following. Then…then…they stopped and she saw…the painting!

She looked around and sure enough the small blue cottage was staring her in the face. The roses were winking at her and the giant tree stood strongly next door.

They were definitely not at Hogwarts anymore.

She heard a groan behind her and turned to see Draco waking. He was not going to be happy.

As his eyes came into focus he saw her. Hair frizzled, face worried and robes wrinkled, staring down at him. He took one look around, one look at her and lost it.

"What the HELL did you do?!" he yelled as he got up and ran after her. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Hermione gave a shriek of surprise and started to run. She ran behind the cottage and jumped behind a rose bush trying to avoid the thorns without realizing that there weren't any. She saw Draco run by.

He stopped at the edge of the pond and looked around, eyes narrowed for any sign of movement. He turned to stare at the back of the cottage and Hermione silently thanked Fiona for having put bushes back there.

Seemingly satisfied that she was nowhere in sight, he sat down with his back to her.

__

Was this a trick? she thought. She decided against it and began to slowly and carefully make her way out of the bush making as little sound as possible. The mistake she made was turning her back on him to get out of the bush.

She was barely out when she felt her feet leave the ground.

He had come up behind her and grabbed her around the middle and now he was dragging her towards the water.

She screamed louder and louder but that only seemed to make him move faster.

He was at the water's edge before he finally stopped. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drown you right now," he ground out inches away from her ear.

His tone cold made her shiver. Would he? She did not exactly want to chance it, but she couldn't let him think he was in control.

"Because you'll never make it out of here without me," she said slowly so the words would sink in.

He dropped her abruptly and she fell hard on her backside, inches from the water. She looked up and glared at him.

"Explain." It was not a request, it was a command.

She wanted to put some distance between them first before she said anything, but she didn't want him to think she was running because then he would follow suit and they both knew who was quicker.

She got up and started to walk towards him away from the water. He followed slowly. She led him to the front of the cottage and sat down just beyond the walkway that led to the house.

"We're inside the painting," she began.

"No shit, genius. Tell me something I don't know," he snapped.

"If we don't get out then everyone will think we're dead," she said looking down at the grass.

"What?! What the fuck are you talking about?!" he yelled.

"The painting we're in is Fiona Hawkeye's painting. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History. It wasn't much, just a small paragraph, but it said that ever since they put it up in 1596, students have been found dead underneath it. Fiona herself was found dead with the painting on her bed. They hung it up after she died as a sort of memorial."

A stunned silence greeted the end of her speech.

"You mean, we're dead?" he asked trying to get it straight.

"Well, if we're dead then how are we here?" she asked getting annoyed.

"Shit, how am I supposed to know? Wait, the inscription. I was trying to figure out what it said." He furrowed his brow in concentration trying to remember what the incantation was.

"Don't think too hard, Ferret, you might have a stroke."

He made a sound that sounded eerily like an angry dog and she didn't say another word.

"Transport something somewhere and don't come back," he said somewhat lamely.

Hermione clapped her hands exaggeratedly. "Well done! Five thousand points to Slytherin for stating the obvious! Idiot."

"Actually it means 'transport my mind to my perfect world. Never to return,'" a pretty girl came out of the cottage looking at the two teens curiously. "I've never had two people in here before. How in the world did you get here?"

Draco glared at the girl in front of him and was about to say something extremely rude but Hermione cut him off.

"Fiona?"

"Yes. Am I really in a book?"

Hermione nodded. "I read that students ended up dead under your painting, d-does that mean we're dead."

"No," she said simply.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"But when they find you they'll think you are."

"W-what?" Hermione asked her head snapping up.

"The spell transports your mind into the painting, but your body is left behind. So, when they find you they _will_ think you are dead."

"How do we get out?" Draco said glaring at Fiona. Hermione was sure that if he had his wand he would have thoroughly cursed Fiona by now.

"You don't," said Fiona shrugging her shoulders.

Hermione practically saw Malfoy's last nerve snap. "Listen you crazy bitch, you WILL tell me how to get out…now." He started to walk towards her.

"Malfoy stop," Hermione said warningly. "If you hurt her she'll never tell us."

Malfoy stopped walking but kept the glare in place.

"All I can say is that being in a painting is better than any life anyone could have. Nothing ever goes wrong. You have nothing to worry about and you can always do as you please," said Fiona trying to explain. "You don't have to deal with all of the horrible things that life throws in your path."

"I can already do as I please, so if you don't mind kindly tell us the way out before I break your face," said Draco in a sweet voice.

Fiona's demeanor quickly changed from calm, sweet and simple to sad, worried and warning. "The others seemed to think that the forest was the way out. But before you go running in, a warning: The Dark Forest is filled with pain, misery, discomfort, hate, fear and death. You have to get past all of those to even see what in on the other side. I, myself, do not know what lies beyond the forest and I have no intentions of finding out. And just so you know, one minute…that was the longest anyone ever lasted. I always hear them scream." Then she turned around and went back inside her cottage.

__

Her life must have been horrible if she wanted to live in here forever, Hermione thought sadly.

Draco was pacing an muttering to himself. "Must be a bloody Gryffindor."

"Actually," said Hermione heatedly, "she was Head Girl and seeker for Slytherin."

She got up and walked to the edge of the forest with Draco following closely behind. She stopped just before and looked inside. "Are we really going in there? You heard what Fiona said," Hermione asked uncertainly. Looking inside, she couldn't make out much. It was almost pitch black, the complete contrast of what lay behind them.

"Firstly, Fiona is deranged. Secondly, if you want to stay here, be my guest. The world would be better off without you anyway," he sneered.

She was about to insult him when something a few feet in caught her eye. She could barely see it, but the dull white stood out drastically against the black of the forest. When realization hit her, she gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

"What now?" Draco asked exasperatedly. "You'd think I never insulted you before."

All she could do was point a shaking finger in the direction of what she saw.

He followed her finger and was shocked at what her saw. "Holy shit! Is that, are those-

"Bones! Human bones!" Hermione screeched, cutting him off. "D-do you still want to go in there?" she asked sounding a slightly hysteric.

He did not answer. He simply set his jaw, jutted his chin out, straightened his shoulders and took a step in. She nearly grabbed him to pull him back but realized he would probably yell at her for sullying his robes, even if she was saving his life. Besides, he seemed to be fine.

"See?" he said triumphantly. "There's nothing here. That psycho probably planted those here to scare gullible idiots…like you," he added as an after thought.

She took a step in. "Don't start. You thought they were real too so-

But she could speak no more.

She barely heard him screaming next to her. Her screams were too loud.

Someone had stabbed her through the heart. They were tugging at her stomach with a hook and ripping her apart from the inside, while they choked her from the outside. Blindly her hands reached for her throat but she felt nothing there. She could barely breathe. She felt her knees hit the cold ground beneath her. Something hit her hard on the back of her head and lights exploded in front of her eyes. The pain was infinite. She thought it would consume her. She was dying and she half welcomed it, she wanted the pain to end. She slowly raised a shaking hand to touch that spot on her head. When she pulled it back she numbly registered that there was no blood on it. But she had felt it. The pain was excruciating. She turned her head to look at Draco and he was no better off than she was. He too was on the ground doubled over in pain.

Someone had their hand around his heart, squeezing hard and they weren't letting go. Someone else was gauging out his eyes. He could feel the prying hands on his face, but when he reached up to grab them, he couldn't find them. His eardrums had burst preventing him from hearing his screams, while his vision was blurring. _Kill me now,_ he thought. Eyes watering, he looked over at Hermione and saw her staring at her hand in disbelief, pain etched all over her face. He reached up to touch his aching eyes when all his fingers suddenly snapped back into odd angles causing him to howl even louder. He tried his other hand. He was shocked to feel his eyes still there. But then why couldn't he see?

His mind began to work despite the pain. Next to him, his battered companion was doing the same.

__

How can there be no blood? I felt it.

It's not real. I have to get up. I have to get out of here.

"It's not real!" they both screamed.

Slowly, they started to get up despite the fact that both of their kneecaps seemed to have been broken. When they tried to use their arms for support, they snapped like twigs.

They tried to put the pain aside, to work through it, but it was no use. It was fogging their mind. They couldn't think clearly.

Everything was fading…they were going blind.

She started feeling around for something, anything that she could use for support, when she felt something soft.

She grabbed it with all of her strength and numbly registered that whatever it was, it grabbed back.

She pushed and pulled and after what felt like the most excruciating hour of her life, she was on her feet again.

Slowly, like a receding tidal wave, the pain slowly ebbed away. She felt a weight on her arms as she regained feeling.

Her legs and arms no longer felt broken and she could feel soft cloth beneath her fingers.

The last sense they regained was their sight. Once her eyes were focused, she found herself looking into the stormy gray eyes of her reluctant companion. She had a firm hold of his robes on his chest and he had her by the arms. They were standing in front of one another staring at each other, breathing hard.

He finally seemed to snap out of his gaze and pushed her roughly away. If not for the tree she hit, she would have fallen again.

He straightened his robes and dusted them off imperiously before walking slowly towards her. He stared her right in the eye and snarled, "Don't _ever_ touch me again."

What she did next shocked him, to say the least.

She poked him hard in the chest with her finger. "Or what?" she said defiantly.

He balled his fist and was ready to punch her lights out. He actually swung, but she ducked and he pulled his punch before it went hurtling into the tree behind her head.

She whirled around to face him before speaking. "Listen, Malfoy. All this pureblood and muggle-born stuff means nothing here. You can pretend like you're better than me but we both know that's not true. You can boss me around all you want but you might as well try and tell this tree what to do for all the good it will do you. I've taken this crap from you long enough and it's going to stop. I am not afraid of you. You have no wand and though you might be stronger physically I can think of at least one weakness that you have that I don't, namely between your legs. So unless you want to lose your ability to make little future death eaters I suggest you leave me alone. We need to get through this forest as quickly as possible before someone finds our bodies and thinks we're dead. I figure we have at least a few hours before people start getting really worried. Then I suppose they'll search the castle. Luckily for us, the corridor we're in is not well known, so that buys us more time, but not much."

Draco was staring at her in disbelief. Did she just threaten him? Had things really gotten this far out of hand so quickly?

"But Hermione would never miss a class," Ron was saying worriedly.

"I'm sure she's fine. Maybe she just wasn't feeling well. I told you that you should have gone to the prefects meeting with her."

"But I'm doing horrible in transfiguration, I needed to catch up."

The two boys walked to Gryffindor tower to check on their best friend.

However, when they reached it they didn't like what they heard.

"She hasn't been here all day. The last time I saw her was before she went to the prefect's meeting," Lavender had told them.

When Hermione didn't show up at dinner, they really began to worry. They had even asked Madame Pince, the librarian, if she had seen Hermione but they received another 'no.'

Once word spread of Hermione's apparent disappearance had spread, something else came to light: Draco was missing too.

Instantly, rumors began to fly that Draco had obviously done something to Hermione and then had run away. Of course, the Slytherins thought it was the other way around.

Dumbledore immediately set out a team of teachers to search the entire school.

It was an hour before they were found under Fiona's painting.

Snape was walking briskly down the corridor when he spotted the two teens on the floor motionless. When the others arrived, they gasped.

Draco was lying flat on his back underneath the painting. Hermione was on his left. She was on her side and left hand was clutching Draco's left arm.

They looked dead.

Ron and Harry had to hold back tears, but Pansy let them fall freely.

"Draco always wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread out over the Egyptian pyramids," she sniffled.

"That will not be necessary, Miss Parkinson," said Dumbledore softly.

She looked up at the headmaster questioningly, as did Harry and Ron.

"Cheer up you three," he said. "They are not dead. They are here."

He held out one long and bony finger and pointed to the painting directly above Draco and Hermione.

Harry, Ron and Pansy looked up at the painting.

It was a blue cottage with roses all around it. There was girl standing in front of it smiling.

But at the edge of the forest stood two others…

A tall blonde boy and a bushy brunette…

They were not smiling.

(HOPE YOU LIKED IT. IT'S NICE AND LONG. PLEASE REVIEW. )


	3. Mindful Misery

Disclaimer: I don't' own any characters.

A/N: Thoughts in italics.

………………………………................................................................................................

Chapter 3

He looked at her aghast, at a loss for words. Was the dirty fucking Mudblood really talking to him like this? Had she lost it? Whatever it was, he was not going to stand for it.

He walked up behind her and grabbed her upper arm, squeezing hard. She whirled around with such force that he nearly lost his grip. She shot him a look of utter disgust and tried to wrench her arm out of his grip, but he didn't budge.

"Listen," he began with a snarl, but she promptly cut him off.

"No, you listen. Didn't you just here a word that I said? We are stuck in here for who knows how long and the only way we're going to get out is if we don't try and kill each other every two minutes. Think about it. What do you think everyone's going to think if you get back and I don't? They're going to _know_ you did something to me and you'll go straight to Azkaban. Now…I'm tired and sore and I feel like I've just been crucioed for an hour so if you don't mind, would you kindly let go of my arm?" she finished coldly.

He pushed her away and wiped his hands on his robes. He noted with a savage satisfaction that she was rubbing her arm gingerly. _I hope she gets a nice big bruise._ Then something occurred to him.

"Like you've ever been crucioed. You don't know what it feels like," he scoffed in disbelief.

After dusting off her own robes, she rounded on him again. "It feels like your bones are on fire. You try to be strong and not scream but you can't hold out for long. You fall to the floor in a heaping pile of pain as your bones continue to melt. Even when it stops you can still feel it. Like an echo of a curse that used to be. Don't tell me I don't know what it feels like," she said in a deadly whisper. "I have your father's friends to thank for that."

She had succeeded in making him speechless…again. She had been attacked? When? By who? Why wasn't he told?

He figured the subject would be difficult to talk about and would probably bring back some bad memories, so naturally he wanted to ask her about it. Hey, if he was stuck in here with her he could at least use her for entertainment. Maybe he could get her mad again. He just wanted an excuse to smack her.

She had settled herself cross-legged with her back to a big tree and seemed to be thinking hard. Was there ever a time when she wasn't thinking? He walked over and sat in front of her.

"So, when did all that happen?" he asked conversationally, not really expecting her to answer.

She looked up and saw his eyes full of malice. "Sixth year. I went to Hogsmeade alone and I was ambushed. I suppose they would have taken me to Voldemort, but someone spotted them and chased them away. But not before they could curse me," she finished.

She could have smacked him. He looked like he wanted to laugh. How could he be so callous. She decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. If she had to be stuck out here with an asshole, then she would treat him like one.

"Why, ferret? How do _you_ know what it feels like? Did your dear old father use it on you when you lost to Harry in quidditch over and over again? Or did he use it on you when I beat you in every class over and over again? Or perhaps Mummy used it on you when she couldn't potty train you. No…it was that time you were supposed to poison me in the library so they could kidnap me," his eyes snapped up to meet hers and she nodded slowly. "I know all about that. What happened? Did you chicken out? Wait, of course you did…after all, you _are_ a Slytherin."

The looked in his eyes screamed bloody murder. He was visibly shaking with rage and she knew she was in trouble.

He lunged forward and had her small and skinny neck in his hands. He tightened his fingers without mercy.

She struggled at first, eyes wide with fright but slowly as the minutes went by her struggling died down. Then she stopped. She closed her eyes and went limp.

He let go of her neck as if he had just been burned. He grabbed a stick off of the ground and used it to poke her in the shoulder. She didn't move.

He reached forward, grabbing her arms and shook her violently. But still no response.

"Shit! I killed her. I really killed her," he spoke out loud. "Wait, I don't give a rat's ass if the Mudblood is dead, I did the world a favor."

He turned to walk away but stopped and ran a hand nervously through his hair. _But what if they asked me what happened to her? I could always lie,_ he thought.

Veritaserum.

"Fuck! What am I gonna do?" he worried.

Something hard hit him in the back of the head.

"For starters you're not going to touch me again," she said as she coughed and got up from the ground.

In her hand, several rocks and sticks were visible. "And secondly, if you do I'll shove these rocks down your throat."

"I'd like to see you try," he challenged.

She threw another rock. She knew he would duck to avoid it so she purposely threw it lower and it hit him square in the forehead. She smiled with savage satisfaction as a small crimson line appeared where the rock had hit.

"Hey, maybe if your lucky it'll leave a scar and people will like you more," she said grinning.

"Have you gone mad? Do you know what I could do to you?" he asked thinking that his little murder attempt had cut off the oxygen to her overly large brain.

"Absolutely nothing. You and I both know what a little scare you just had. Do you really want to go through it again?"

He glared.

"Didn't think so."

They stood there in silence for a while until Hermione's curiosity got the better of her.

"Are you hungry?" she asked suddenly.

He looked up from his place on a fallen log a few feet away. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" he snapped.

"Well, because I'm not and I haven eaten anything all day."

"Obviously we're not hungry. It's just our brains in here not our bodies. I thought you were supposed to be smart," he smirked.

"That's exactly my point."

"What, that you're retarded, because I could have told you that a long time ago."

"No." she said not amused. "That it's just our minds in here. So what we felt back there wasn't real. It was all in our minds, literally."

"Well, shit, of course it wasn't real. If it was we would both be dead."

"What exactly did you feel?" she asked curiosity alive in her eyes.

"None of your damn business," he snapped.

"I felt horrible. It felt like I was being ripped apart inside, but at the same time I was being choked on the outside. Then something hit me in the back of the head, but when I felt it there was no blood. I thought about it and then I realized that-

"It wasn't real," he cut her off. "I know. I was there too. It was just an illusion of some kind. Probably a Dark Spell or something."

"But the pain, it was…unbearable."

"Yeah, well I had my eyes gauged out, my eardrums ruptured my fingers broken and my heart squeezed so please spare me your sob story because in case you forgot…I don't give a fuck."

He got up from his log, apparently tired of their conversation and began walking further into the forest.

Just then, something occurred to her. "Hey, Malfoy! Wait." She caught up with him. "Shouldn't we go back and get Fiona? We could help her get out."

"You really are insane aren't you? First off, I hope that crazy bitch dies for making this place. Second, do you really fancy going through all that _unbearable_ pain all over again? And third, she painted this how long ago? If she got out now, her mind wouldn't have any place to go back to. Unless you count a pile of dust that used to be bones."

Begrudgingly, she saw his point and kept walking.

Gradually, the forest got thicker and thicker. Sometimes they could barely walk. They had to fight their way through endless walls of bushes, shrubs and vines. They even came across a wall of trees which they had to go around.

They had been walking for what felt like hours when Hermione started to complain. "I'm tired. We need to stop and rest."

"You're not tired. It's all in that frizzy little head of yours. So shut up and keep moving," he snapped. Although he wouldn't admit it, he was also starting to fell tired.

As they day (or night) they couldn't tell which, grew on, conditions became less and less bearable.

With every step they took, it seemed to get hotter and hotter. They had both already taken off their robes and rolled up their sleeves, but they were still sweating. Hermione wondered how on earth it could be this hot if there was no sun in sight.

They temperature wasn't the only thing that had changed. The landscape had also changed, and drastically so. The floor was not muddy and very hard to walk in. First it was so steep they practically had to climb it, then it was so steep going down that they had to try not to roll all the way down. Though each was very tempted to push the other over.

Probably the worst thing of all was the wildlife. Every shape, size and color imaginable was now flying around their heads. They had each chosen a stick roughly the size of a beaters club and were using that to protect themselves from the nasty critters.

One thing, the size of a cat had tangled it self in Hermione's hair, to Draco's great amusement. It was a sick greenish color and had scaly wings much like a dragon. Its face, however, looked like that of a squirrel but with long fangs. It was hideous.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh when something equally as hilarious happened to Draco. He was walking along in front of her when something swooped down and knocked him clean off of his feet. Hermione had jumped out of the way as he came sailing backwards.

The thing that had knocked Draco down looked like a cross between a Saint Bernard and a giant swan. A big shaggy head was perched atop a long white neck. It's body was doglike except for the fact that it had a pink tinge to it. It's hind legs were webbed but in the front it had paws. And it was no to be found licking all the gel out of Draco's hair.

Hermione was practically rolling on the ground laughing while Draco was trying to beat the thing away with his fists. He finally made one good swing and the beast made a sound that sounded half like a squawk and half like a bark and it ran away.

"Why the hell didn't you get that thing off me?" he said fuming.

She looked at him in disbelief. "Did you help me when I had that _thing_ in my hair," she said hands perched on her hips.

He got up off of the ground and they kept walking.

After a little while, "I'm hungry," Hermione said suddenly. "How is that possible?"

"Well, we have been traveling for God knows how long without eating. I'm hungry too," he decided to admit.

He stopped and looked around trying to find something to eat. His eyes spotted a normal looking tree with some sort of fruit growing on it and he walked towards it.

The fruit was fuzzy like a peach but it was the shape of a pear and the color of a grape. Whatever it was, it looked juicy and he was going to eat it. He raised it to his lips and was about to take a bite but…

She came up behind him and whacked the fruit out of his hands.

"What the fuck is your problem! I'm starving!"

"Trust me. You don't want to eat that."

"The hell I don't."

"Look." she said picking up the fruit. She smashed it against the tree and it opened to reveal a black, sticky and smelly liquid. "This is Wangdroser fruit. If you had eaten this, you would have choked on the sap inside in a matter of seconds. It thickens when it's exposed to saliva."

Did she just help him? She just helped him. But why?

"Why the hell am I hungry all of a sudden anyway? I thought this was all in our minds?" he asked thoroughly annoyed.

"I don't know. Maybe it's another kind of test."

"Screw the test. And fuck Fiona for being so fucking psycho." he said.

"Would you stop with the cursing already? Is that all you know how to say?" she was now rubbing her temples in an attempt to get rid of a headache that she hadn't decided was actually real yet.

"Fuck you. And fuck this place. And you know what else? Fuck, fuck, fucketty , fuck, fuck fuck!" he yelled.

"Real mature. Would you grow up?"

"I don't wanna," he said in a small whiney voice.

She looked at him to argue but saw the expression on his face. At the same time, she knew what he was feeling. She could feel the same expression forming on her own face.

The memories came flooding back to her. She just wanted to shut off her brain to stop them from coming but it was no use.

It was her first say of kindergarten. The teacher had called her Her-my-own and she had gotten in trouble for trying to correct her. Then she was made to sit next to a boy who put gum and glue in her hair and called her names.

He was five and he had walked in on his father arguing with his mother. He went over and kicked his father in the shin and had gotten a beating for it.

She had gotten her letter from Hogwarts and was extremely happy. There was something special about her after all. But then one day she heard her parents talking. "Maybe it was a mistake," he father had said. "I know," her mother had replied, "Hermione couldn't possibly be a witch. She's just…Hermione." It was then that she had vowed to be the best at Hogwarts, no matter what the cost.

He knew he was going to be the most powerful first year at Hogwarts. Then he heard the rumors on the train, "Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts." Perfect. They could be allies. But no, Potter had to be a fool. He had to be a bloody Gryffindor. He would get all the attention.

People talking, "She's such a know-it-all. Can't she give other people a chance to at least try and answer. What a teachers pet."

People talking, "Look there he goes. Stay away from him, he's evil. His father's a death eater. He must be too."

Ron never noticing…

His father noticing every mistake…

Harry always in danger…

His work was never good enough…

Her parents always faking…

His parents always fighting…

They were miserable. They were one the floor sobbing bitter tears of hate and regret. It was worse than pain. Their hearts were breaking.

Everything she had ever done was for nothing. Nobody cared. She had no friends.

Everything he had ever done was fake. He had no real friends just people to afraid to oppose him.

Trying to prove herself to her parents.

Trying to prove himself to his father.

The misery flooded every inch, every crevasse of their bodies.

They could see what a disappointment they were to everyone around them.

All she had was her grades.

All he had was people's fear.

Wait…

I have more than that. I have my friends. I have Harry and Ron. They'll always care.

I have more than that. I have mother. She'll always care.

It was happening again.

She opened her eyes.

She was lying face down on the forest floor. Draco was mere feet away in the same position, but his face was turned away from her.

She didn't realize at first, but she was still crying. Her chest was heaving up and down softly. She tried to calm her hacking sobs, with some difficulty.

She pushed up onto her elbows then rolled over and sat up. He put her open palm on her chest and felt her heart. It was going a mile a minute.

She looked over at Draco and he was stirring softly. She heard an unmistakable sniffle. When he turned around she could clearly see he had also been crying. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained.

She didn't know how, but she knew what he had just been through. And from the look on his face it went both ways.

A brief second of understanding crossed between brown and gray eyes. Almost as if saying, "I understand."

His drawl cut through the silence like a hacksaw through an arm. "You're drooling," he said hoarsely.

"Huh?" she asked confused.

"My unnaturally good looks were making you drool," he said after clearing his throat.

She shot him a look and said nothing. She simply got to her feet and brushed herself off. He did the same and they went on walking without another word.

He couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. He seemed to be reliving some of the most miserable realizations in his life. And yet…it was more. He got flashes of another's feelings that he knew were not his own and yet he could relate with them.

Not fitting in, being looked down on, not being good enough.

He glanced over at the girl walking beside him. She was deep in thought and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. He wondered if she had had a similar experience.

"That was miserable," she said.

It was a moment before he realized that she hadn't moved her lips.

"What did you say?" he asked suddenly.

She turned to look at him slightly confused. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did I heard you."

The forest must be getting to him. He's deranged.

"I am most certainly not deranged. I heard you," he said getting annoyed.

She looked at him in utter shock. "You hear me say you were deranged?"

"Obviously."

"But I didn't say it," she stated bewildered.

"How could you not have said it if I heard it?"

"I thought it."

"Now who's crazy?" he said looking at her questionably. _What is her problem? Does she do this on purpose, just to mess with me?_

"I don't do anything on purpose and I am most certainly not trying to mess with you," she said getting offended.

"You heard that?" he asked the shock evident in his voice.

"Obviously," she said mimicking his earlier tone.

"But I didn't say it out loud."

"You thought it! Malfoy do you know what this means?!"

"We're going crazy?"

"No, you complete prat…we can read each others minds!" she squealed.

"WHAT?!" he yelled. _Oh, this is bad this is really, really bad._

"Tell, me about it," she replied.

"Would you stop that!" he yelled.

"Sorry! I didn't do it on purpose, you know. It sounds like your talking," she defended.

"Did you see my lips moving?"

"No."

"Then don't reply!"

"So I'm just supposed to pretend that I don't hear you?" she asked getting annoyed herself.

"Exactly," he said pompously.

"Then don't think so much. Oh wait, this is you. I guess I won't have to worry much about that," she said smirking.

He turned around and started walking. _Fuck you, frizz ball._

"I heard that." _Right back at you helmet head. What happened, did a bottle of bleach fall on your head when you were younger or was it peroxide?_

"What the hell is peroxide?" she heard him mutter from up front and she started laughing.

……………………………….......

Draco and Hermione's bodies now lay in the hospital wing.

Dumbledore explained the situation to the teachers along with Harry, Ron and Pansy.

"It is up to them to get out. I believe they shall have to get through many obstacles before their minds are returned to us. For now we shall have to make them as comfortable as possible. You can talk to them if you wish, I am not sure if they can hear you, but it wouldn't hurt. Whatever you do, do not touch them. If their bodies are disturbed in anyway, their minds could be jeopardized. I took a small risk moving them here."

They visited her everyday that they had free time. Whenever they came, they found Pansy sitting next to Draco's bed, crying quietly.

"Please, come back. I never got to tell you," they heard her whisper once.

They felt bad for her. Without Draco, she seemed lost.

They knew the feeling. It was the same way they felt about Hermione. Without her, nothing felt right.

………………………………................................................................................................

This is the longest I have ever written, ever! I'm so proud. Lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I really like where this is going. I wonder if anyone has figured out my plan yet. If you think you have an idea, leave it in your review. Please review!!! J


	4. Adam and Eve

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

A/N: Quick reminder, thoughts are in italics.

Chapter 4

But how is this possible? How can our minds be connected? Is it because of the painting? Since both of our minds are in here together we know what the other is thinking? But then why couldn't we hear Fiona's thoughts? This makes no sense. I wonder if they found our bodies. I hope so. No wait, if they did then they'll think we're dead. It's better if they didn't. But then what if we rot to death and no one ever finds us! What if-

"Granger, if you don't shut the fuck up right now I'm going to kill you. And this time, I'll make sure it sticks. To hell with the consequences," he growled warningly.

"But I'm not saying anything!" she protested indignantly.

"But you're bloody thinking it! And I can hear every second of it. So STOP!"

"I'm just trying to figure out what happened. Don't you want to know?"

"No, I don't. I just want to get the hell out of here. So keep walking," he barked.

He didn't want to think about anything. Thinking involved feeling and he didn't want to feel anything. Especially not what he had just gone through. He didn't want to feel it again, a third time.

Going through it once was enough, then he had been forced through it again by this wretched forest. Forced to relived the most miserable moments of his life. He was _not_ about to think of it again, so why did she?

Why does she have to try and figure out everything? Bloody frizz ball headed Gryffindor. Who cares why it happened. It just better not happen again. I don't think I could take it. Miserable.

He heard a twig snap behind him. Whirling around quickly, he found her looking at him with wide eyes.

"Where you listening to me?!" he snapped.

"I, no, well...yes," she whispered. "I didn't mean to! Besides, it's not my fault. You thought it, so I could hear it," she tried to explain.

She could see it in his eyes. He was mad...very mad.

"I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault," she said again. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"You have got to be kidding me," he almost laughed. "What makes you think I'd talk to you about anything?"

"Well, you're certainly talking to me now, aren't you?" she said hands on her hips.

"Not anymore," and he turned around and kept walking.

So they walked. And they walked and walked until they couldn't walk anymore. Not because they were tired and not because they were hungry. It was something far worse.

They...were BORED.

And neither of them had a problem of letting the other know.

"Malfoy, I'm sick of walking. We need to stop," Hermione protested.

"No," he snapped even as he stopped walking too. "Now what," he asked glaring.

But she was already busy looking around the forest floor.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Looking for this." She emerged from a bush holding something. She held it up triumphantly for him to see.

He stared at it blankly. It was a small, round and fuzzy looking thing roughly the size of a fist. It was violently orange and had dark blue spots all around it.

"Am I supposed to be impressed? What is it? Besides ugly."

"Honestly, Malfoy, did you ever pay attention in Herbology?"

"Of course not."

"This," she said motioning towards the bush she came out of, "is a Naranzul bush. And this is what grows on it, a puffle. You can't eat them and they're only really good for one thing."

"Yeah, what's that?"

Next thing he knew, a streak of orange and blue was headed towards his face.

He put his hand up just in time and caught it before it hit him square in the face.

"Granger, what the fuck!"

"Oh, stop complaining. I knew you would catch it. Seeker reflexes and all."

He didn't looked appeased.

"Come on, Malfoy. Haven't you ever played catch before," she said feeling rather playful for some reason, despite the fact that she was trapped in a cursed painting with her mortal enemy as her only company.

"Do I look like a dog to you?" he drawled.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

He stood up, brought his arm back and threw the puffle as hard as he could towards the girl in front of him.

Out of anger, he wasn't able to aim properly and the puffle zoomed to Hermione's left.

To Malfoy's great surprised, she dove to her left stretched out her arm and caught the puffle just before it passed her. She landed on the ground on her side.

Hm, not bad, he admitted.

"Thanks," she smiled brightly as she got up off the ground.

Damn. He had complimented her and she had heard. Curse this fucking forest.

He thought quick. "That wasn't a compliment. I got a nice showing of your knickers when you dove," he smirked.

She blushed furiously and looked outraged before chucking the small fuzzy ball in his direction again.

She threw it several feet above his head but he managed to jump high enough to catch it and come back down, landing in a crouched position.

He smirked as he got up and was pleased to see a disgruntled look on her face. She kept smoothing down her skirt as though making sure nothing was showing.

He laughed as he threw the puffle back in her direction.

She looked up in time to see a streak of orange and blue pass on the right side of her face nearly hitting her.

She huffed loudly and stomped after it.

I'm going to shove that puffle up that pompous idiot's-

Temper, temper, Granger, his thoughts interrupted hers.

He saw her turn around, stomp off and disappear into the side of the forest where the puffle had gone.

She emerged a few seconds later holding the puffle. His back was to her. "Malfoy!" she snapped, ready to shove the ball down his throat.

He turned around, smirk in place, but what he saw utterly horrified him. Enough to make him clasp his hands on his eyes and run and hide behind a tree. Yes, Draco Malfoy was now hiding behind a tree.

"Granger, what the fuck is your problem!?" he yelled from behind the tree.

"What in the world are you talking about?" she asked thoroughly confused.

"YOU'RE FUCKING NAKED!" he practically screeched.

"I most certainly am not!" she yelled back looking horrified at the thought. "Why would I get naked in front of you?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know!" he said, not coming from behind the tree.

He was hidden so well, she couldn't even see his hair.

"Malfoy, I can assure you that I am not naked. You must be seeing things. Besides I was gone for a grand total of about three seconds. How could anyone undress that fast?" she said trying to be logical.

You haven't seen Pansy.

"That's disgusting!" she shrieked. "And you're being ridiculous. Come see for yourself."

"Fine. But if you're naked, Granger, I'm warning you now. I'll beat the shit out of you."

"Whatever."

"Are all you're clothes on?" he asked one last time.

"They were never off!" she said exasperatedly.

He stepped out from behind the tree hand still over his eyes.

Now, it was Hermione's turn to yell.

"MALFOY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" she screamed hysterically turning around and rubbing her eyes frantically.

She peaked over her shoulder to make sure that what she was seeing was real.

Sure enough, there stood Draco Malfoy...naked in all his Slytherin glory.

She stared wide eyed at him. His skin was smooth and pale, like his face. He was tall and slender but by no means scrawny. His arms were sleek but toned, his chest was firm and his abs were well defined. Unwillingly, her eyes traveled lower. She gasped and turned around again.

She was _not_ staring at him.

When he heard her yell his hand came down from his eyes and he was not pleased.

"Fuck, Granger! What did I just say?!" he yelled catching a glimpse of her back.

"I'm not the one that's naked, you are!" she protested, back still to him.

He peaked through his hands. Her wild hair fell just to the middle of her bare back. Her arms were up and covering her eyes. His eyes traveled to the bottom of her hair and he laid his eyes on her very bare lower than low back. The skin was perfectly smooth and unflawed just like the rest of her. Her legs were also smooth and shaven and she ended on tiny, dainty feet. What had he expected? Warts maybe?

She looked over her shoulder determined to keep eye contact. "Malfoy, put your clothes on...NOW!" she yelled the last word.

"They're not off!" he yelled back.

"How can you say that when I can see, I can see, your, you!" she pointed an accusing finger.

"Then stop looking! You're not worthy to look at me you dirty mudblood," he sneered.

This made Hermione's blood boil. "And why exactly is that?" she said fuming. She turned around no longer caring that she was staring at the naked form of her hated enemy.

When she had turned around he had used every ounce of his will power not to look at certain places that shall remain nameless. Namely, places that only the females of our species possess.

But, being a man...he failed miserably.

"GROSS! Granger, get away from me!" he protested.

She advanced on him but he held his ground. "Not until you tell me why I'm so unworthy," she said, her tone ice cold.

She was mere feet away from him.

She leaned over and picked a menacing looking stick from an ugly bush on her side. She put it to her finger and pressed hard.

He saw the spot of crimson begin to form on her finger as she threw the stick aside.

"Does this look any different than yours? Does it smell different? Does it taste different? Does it _feel_ different?" she hissed.

She raised her bloody finger to his pale face and drew a bloody line down his cheek.

She felt his bare skin touch her moist finger and it gave her an odd sensation.

"You're seeing me naked aren't you? Do I look any different than any other girl? Do I have patches of moldy brown skin, any warts maybe. See any mud anywhere? NO, I BET YOU DON'T!" she finished at the top of her lungs.

For the umpteenth time he was speechless. Not only was he staring at the naked form of Hermione Granger, but she had touched him. She had put her blood on his face. She had gone insane.

She was relentless and wouldn't stop. "When are you going to _grow up _and have a mind of your own! You need to stop believing all the garbage that they're feeding you at wanna-be Death Eater camp and you need to start _thinking_ for yourself! You need to see that the only reason they want to get rid of muggles is because they _fear_ them! Voldemort and his people know that muggles aren't stupid. The truth is if the Death Eaters weren't such _cowards_ and didn't use magic to fight them, the muggles would stand a chance. That's why they want to kill them all, not because they're _inferior _like you've been led to believe, but because they know that they're _equal_!" she finished her tirade and was now panting.

To top it all off, her finger was also aching. She had used it to poke Malfoy hard in the chest every time she wanted to emphasize a point.

He opened his mouth ready to retaliate when she cut him off. "If I were you, I would think long and hard about what you're about to say. Otherwise, you might find yourself missing something long and hard," she said glaring at his lower abdomen determined not to blush.

He couldn't say it, and he certainly couldn't think it, but he was shocked. Shocked and impressed. He never thought in a million years that little mousy Granger would have this many guts. It must be her Gryffindor courage swelling up.

Nevertheless, no one threatened Draco Malfoy, or his manhood, and got away with it.

"I am going to kill you," he hissed. "And I'll do it so thoroughly that all of your precious muggles will feel it for the next _hundred _YEARS!" he said, getting louder with every word.

"And just how are you going to do that when you won't even look at me properly? And I _know_ you won't touch me. I'm dirty remember. You wouldn't want to soil your precious hands."

"Damn right I won't touch you," he sneered.

"I wish I could say the same," and she lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck.

Being reasonably shorter than him she had to reach up, but she got a good grip anyway. She completely forgot about him being naked and just charged.

He was momentarily stunned by her attack but once he had regained his composure he was able to throw her to the side easily.

She looked up from the ground, furious. But as soon as she laid her eyes on him she visibly calmed.

"Malfoy, you're clothes are back on," she observed.

"They were never off," she stated flatly, rubbing his neck and contemplating her murder. "Bloody bitch," she heard him whisper.

"Yes, they were," she said getting off of the ground. "But now they're not. But why? Unless..." she trailed off.

Suddenly, it had clicked. As everything tends to do if you're Hermione Granger.

She walked purposefully towards him and stood directly in front of him.

"WHAT are you doing?" he asked trying his damn best not to look down, again.

"Touch me," she said flatly.

"WHAT?!"

"Touch me," she said again.

"Why the fuck would I do that!" he yelled.

"Do you ever want to see me with my clothes on again?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Obviously."

"Then do it."

This was the most uncomfortable situation he had ever been put into in his life.

If it was anyone else, he would have of course, jumped at the opportunity of a naked girl telling him to touch her.

But it wasn't anyone else.

It was her.

Naked her, standing right in front of him, just waiting.

He reached his hand out tentatively.

It was mere inches from her bare shoulder.

Contact.

Her skin was soft and warm. His hand tense at the touch. After a moment he relaxed his hand.

As soon as he did...

"Bloody hell! Where'd your clothes come from?"

He lifted his hand up and sure enough, the cloth from her robes was underneath it.

But how?

"Well, I have a theory. And a pretty good one I think. Judging from what we've been through, it's pretty simple to see that we're being put through a series of tests, right?"

He nodded, still trying to figure out where her clothes had come from.

"Well, if you remember, what was the first thing that happened when we came into the forest?"

"Like anyone's likely to forget almost dying," he drawled.

"Exactly. What did we feel?" she pressed on.

"Pain. Where are you going with this," he said getting annoyed.

He had a shorted attention span than a two year old.

"Right, pain. Then after that we...well I don't know exactly what to call it."

"We were pretty much miserable. Why don't you try expanding your vocabulary," he shot at her.

"That's exactly the word I was looking for," she said ignoring the rest of the comment. "And just now, wouldn't you say that this situation was rather uncomfortable?"

"Hell yeah. But I still don't see your point, Granger."

"Don't you remember what Fiona said when we asked her what was in the forest?"

"If I don't pay attention in class what makes you think I'd listen to some crazy bitch rambling on about her fucking make-believe world."

"I guess that's a no then. She said that the Dark forest is filled with pain, misery, discomfort, hate, fear and, um, well I can't exactly remember the last thing."

"Death. The last thing is death. Leave it to you to forget the most important one," he said rather uncomfortably.

She paled at the word.

"Do you mean to tell me that this forest is putting us through some fucking check list of things? And next on that list is hate, then fear, then death? Then what the hell's going to happen? Are we supposed to die then somehow come back to life and just walk out of here?" he asked fuming.

"All I know is that we've gotten farther than anyone else. We've gotten passed three things and there are only three more. I think we can do it," she said with as much optimism as she could gather, which, truthfully, wasn't much.

"We better. I'm not staying in here forever and I am definitely not fucking dying in here. Besides, we've already been through hell. It's not like it could get any worse."

Drip. Drip drop drip drop.

She could have killed him.

It had started to rain.

"NEVER say that it can't get worse because it ALWAYS DOES!" she growled at him. "Haven't you seen any horror movies...ever?!"

Squish squash. She turned around and stomped away followed by a very soggy Draco.

----

They could tell by the painting what was going on. It was a rare occurrence that they had realized early on.

Their tension would be momentarily eased when they saw her smiling, only to be brought up again when they saw her face contorted with anger, or pain, or sadness. Once, they swore they saw her crying and it broke their hearts. Sure enough, when they had rushed to the hospital to see her, she had tears streaming down her face.

Surprisingly, so did he. Pansy wanted so much to wipe them off but she tried to restrain herself. She tried to remember what Dumbledore had said about touching them.

But on the sixth day, she couldn't resist.

She made sure no one was watching.

Leaning on the bed she cupped his face in her hand and whispered in his ear, "Come back to me. Please."

--------

Draco's damp head snapped up. "What was that?" he asked suddenly.

Hermione stopped walking. "What was what?"

"I felt something touch my face, and there was a breeze in my ear."

"It was just the rain, that you started by the way," she said annoyed and she turned around and kept walking.

She made him angry enough to forget about the phantom touch.

"So, Granger, do you really think I'm long and hard," Draco smirked ignoring the rain for a moment.

She turned around. "You won't be for long if you keep this up," she warned.

And on they trudged.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phew! Now THAT is the longest I've EVER written! I hope that makes up for not updating in like a year! I'm so sorry. I don't even have a good excuse. I always thought that being busy wasn't a valid excuse, but now I KNOW it is. Things have been crazy.

I can't tell you exactly when the next chapter is coming or what's in it because unlike some smarter people, I don't exactly write or think ahead. I just start typing and whatever happens in the chapter happens. I have a general idea of how I want it to end, but that's about it. So enjoy and give me some great feedback!!! BTW: this chapter was supposed to be funny and serious. I hope you can tell the difference when it's supposed to be which one.


	5. Hate is a Strong Word

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

A/N: thoughts are in italics.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5

__

I'm not supposed to touch her, he thought.

But everyday he came and saw her like this, the urge grew more and more. It was so hard not to comfort her now, when she really needed it, when she was always there for him when he needed her the most. Seeing her like this horribly reminded him of the events of second year. He couldn't stand seeing her there, wide-eyed yet lifeless. Now was no different.

Ron was currently serving a detention with McGonagall. She had walked into Charms Class to speak with Flitwick and had caught Ron floating the pillows they were supposed to be making invisible into the back of Seamus' head causing him to blow up his pillow. Ron tried to argue that he probably would have blown it up anyway, but that did nothing to remedy his situation.

So he, Harry, was in the hospital wing alone trying to fight the urge to comfort his best friend. He looked up at the hangings that now separated Hermione and Draco's hospital beds and could see Pansy sitting stock still, yet he could tell she was staring at Draco. Every now and then, she would hunch forward and Harry knew she was itching to touch him.

__

How bad could it really be, Harry thought.

Ultimately, and not for the first time in his life, Harry went against Dumbledore's words.

He reached his hand out tentatively and began to gently stroke hers.

"Come back to us, Hermione," he whispered.

He slowly leaned down and kissed her hand softly. Whether it was his imagination or not, Harry could have sworn he felt her hand shift under his.

---------------------------------

The rain had stopped a while ago.

A light breeze brushed her hair off of her face and she felt something tickle her hand. She turned around abruptly to see if it was another creature and received a withering glare.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he snapped.

"Did you feel that breeze?" she asked ignoring his tone. By now, she was far too used to it to care.

"There was no breeze," he answered flatly, in a tone that should have ended the conversation.

But after all, he was talking to Hermione Granger.

"Did you see anything brush past me?"

"No! Now shut up," he barked.

"Why?" she asked in an offended tone.

"Because your voice is one of the most annoying things on the planet. Well besides your face, and your hair, and Potter, and Weasley, and-

"Malfoy, could you maybe pretend for two seconds that you're not a complete git? I felt something brush my hand so I thought it might have been another animal."

"What did it feel like," he asked suddenly, his tone totally different.

"My hand tickled, like when Crookshanks brushes past me."

"And you felt a breeze?" he pressed further.

"I told you that already. Why so interested all of a sudden?"

"Because I felt the same thing not too long ago. Only it was my cheek, not my hand," he confessed.

Hermione pondered for a moment then asked, "Did the breeze actually _feel_ like a breeze to you?"

"No. It was warmer, actually. And it sounded...different. Like it wasn't just the wind," he said thinking hard.

"Like it was a whisper," she said eyes widening. "Malfoy! I think someone's trying to talk to us!"

"But who? Someone from the outside? What if it's another trick," he said sounding skeptical.

"My hand. I feel it again. I think someone or something outside the painting is touching my hand and I can feel it. So maybe the wind really is a whisper. What is it?" she asked, noticing that the expression on his face had changed. "You feel it again don't you?"

He nodded and brought his hand up to his face.

"Malfoy, do you know what this means?" she practically shrieked.

He looked at her and found her to be quite the amusing sight. He hair was pulled back in a low pony tail, but some strands had come loose in her excitement. Her eyes were wide and they sparkled with renewed fervor. Now, she stood there gaping at him with a huge smile on her face waiting for his response.

He smirked and said, "It means that someone's molesting our unconscious bodies."

Her expression changed to one of annoyance. "No, you dolt. It _means_ that someone has found our bodies and they're obviously taking care of us. I bet we're in the hospital."

"And I bet it's Filch having his way with us."

"You are disgusting. I'm telling you, they've found us," she said confidently.

"And I'm telling you they haven't and if they have, then what we're feeling is the beginning of the autopsy."

"Malfoy, I bet you twenty galleons you're wrong," she said getting fed up with his ignorance and his sick mind.

"Is that all?" he said smirking. "I have plenty of money. If we're going to bet, it'll be on my terms."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I'm listening."

"If you're wrong then you have to do whatever I say for a week," he said smiling evilly.

At first her eyes were wide with surprise but then they narrowed and her mouth curled up into a sneer to rival his own.

__

Uh oh.

"Uh oh, is right. If you're wrong you have to do what I say for a week. But on two conditions. One, we can't make the other do anything illegal or...you know," she said looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Lighten up, Granger. It's not like we haven't already seen each other naked. Besides, I have plenty of willing girls for that. I don't need to force anyone."

"No, just drug them," she mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I just want to add one more condition. If you're wrong, you have to swear never to call me a mudblood again."

"Ha. Fat chance," he snorted.

"What's wrong? Afraid you'll lose?"

"Of course not."

"Then let's shake on it," she said extending her hand.

He eyed it with apprehension and disgust.

"My hand is no dirtier than yours," she whispered coldly.

"Says you," he snarled, but took it anyway.

It was quite small and fit neatly in his. He could probably have broken it if he wanted to.

"Draco, why do you hate me?" she asked so suddenly that he dropped her hand.

"Did you just call me Draco? And what kind of a question is that anyway?"

"A fair one."

She looked at him intently waiting for an answer and he didn't like it. Her brown eyes were looking directly into his as though his eyes held the answer.

"You're a mudblood," he stated simply.

"And if I wasn't?" she pressed further.

That was definitely not the response he had expected and it threw him off guard. "You are," he said stubbornly.

"Well, do you hate Ginny then? She's a pureblood."

"The little Weasley? What does she have to do with anything?"

Hermione did not break eye contact. She was starting to freak him out...and make him think.

"She may be pureblood, but she's a Gryffindor," he said coming up with another excuse.

"So what if she was in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?"

"Fuck, Granger! Will you stop with the interrogation already!" he yelled, finally snapping and shoving her away. He had only just realized that she was uncomfortably close.

But her question kept echoing in his head.

Why do I hate her? Hell, she's a mudblood and I'm a pureblood.

Yeah, so?

So I'm better than her.

Really? Who made up that rule?

Shut up!

You know I'm right. Since when do you do what you're told?

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

You only hate her because when you were growing up, people told you that you had to hate her.

"SHUT UP!" he roared. _I HAVE to get out of this painting!_

He looked up and saw Hermione standing a few feet away looking very confused. She kept shaking her head as though trying to clear it.

__

Did she just hear what I thought?

Her head snapped up. "What just happened?" she asked.

"I guess not," he whispered to himself. "How the hell should I know. One minute we were shaking on the bet, and the next, you went mental and started asking me all these stupid questions."

"About what?" she asked curiously.

He snorted, "About why I hate you."

"About why you hate me? Malfoy! That was the next test! Hate! Remember?"

"Of course I remember. But it couldn't have been. Why didn't anything happen to you?" he said in a tone that clearly meant, "that's not fair."

"Why does everything always have to happen to me?" she snapped. Her expression had changed. Her eyes were narrowed with fury and she seemed to be shaking with rage. When she spoke again, her voice was quivering and she wasn't even trying to stop it.

"Just because I'm a mudblood, everything should happen to me?"

"Pretty much," he said smirking. But the look on her face told him that that was the worst possible thing he could have said. He had gone too far.

Her eyes widened and her fists clenched. "AAAAHHHH!!!" she let out an ear piercing shriek and charged at him with every ounce of strength that she possessed.

She was blinded by fury and was no longer able to think clearly. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to cause him as much pain as possible.

Being caught off guard, he fell to the ground easily, making painful contact with the earth beneath him. He felt the wind get knocked out of him. At first he thought it was the fall, but then he realized the Hermione was straddling him and pounding on his chest with her clenched fists.

It wasn't until after the shock wore off that he began to realize that her pounding was actually hurting.

Once he regained his wits he was able to roll over, with much difficulty, and reverse the position.

He sat on her legs so she wouldn't be able to kick him and he grabbed her wrists to stop the onslaught of punches that she was about to begin on his face.

She began to struggle fiercely beneath him so he held on tighter.

"Granger, I'm warning you! Get a hold of yourself or I will start punching back!" he yelled.

She didn't stop struggling. He noticed that her eyes were closed. But that didn't stop the tears.

"I hate you!" she screamed suddenly, still trying to break free and continue her assault.

"Tell me something I don't know," he muttered to himself.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she kept saying over and over again.

__

But do you really? Think about it.

Of course I do. He hates me!

And if he didn't?

But he does.

If he didn't?

She hadn't stopped struggling, or crying but she had stopped yelling.

She looked tragic. He almost couldn't bare to watch. Some part of him enjoyed watching her suffer, but the other, much smaller and deeper hidden part, wanted it to stop. It was like watching fluffy little cute bunnies being viciously ripped apart.

She reminded him of the time when Pansy had come into the common room crying hysterically because her cat had been eaten. He had felt very awkward and hadn't exactly known what to do.

This was different, though. He liked Pansy and didn't want to see her miserable.

__

This is Granger.

He snapped out of his reverie and found that the girl beneath him had gone strangely still.

He still held onto her wrists loosely. "Granger?" he questioned.

She looked horrible. She was pale, hair messier than usual and her eyes were sealed shut. But...she was still crying. She was so still, if not for her crying, he would have been sure she had stopped breathing.

"Gran-

Her eyes flew open cutting him off. They shone and shimmered with recently shed tears and...a new found understanding.

He said nothing.

He could feel her draw a shaky breath. What she said next shook his brain to the core. "I don't hate you."

She spoke so softly, if not for the fact that he was right on top of her, he might not have heard her.

"I hate...that you hate who I am. I hate what you've been taught. But I don't hate you. It's not your fault. I'm sorry."

Did she just apologize for being a mudblood?

Then she did something as equally surprising. She smiled kindly at him. A real, warm, friendly smile. No one had ever looked at him like that before. He was so used to people smirking or frowning or cowering in fear of him...but never a smile.

"You can let go of me now," she said calmly.

He simply didn't know what to say.

"It's okay. I get it now. And when it's time, you will too. But until then, I kind of need my legs. So if you wouldn't mind..." she trailed off.

He got up, and with the hold he had on her wrists she came up along with him.

He was staring at her as though he had never really seen her before. What if this was another kind of trick? What if the forest was trying to catch him off guard?

"It's not a trick," she said.

"But how did you? I didn't think that," he said surprised.

"It doesn't take a mind reader to read that look on your face," she said, again smiling.

"Will you stop looking at me like that?" he said, feeling unnerved by her smile.

She frowned slightly. "Like what?"

"Like we're...friends."

"I know we aren't. But we're not enemies. Enemies hate each other, and I don't hate you."

"Stop saying that," he commanded.

"It's true," she said seriously. "I hate how you've been brought up and what you've been taught to believe. But that doesn't have anything to do with you. It's not like you could choose your parents or your family. No one can. So why hold it against them?"

He looked down to avoid her gaze and saw that he still held her wrists.

He dropped them without warning. _You _can't_ choose your family,_ he thought.

__

That's right.

Stay OUT of my mind.

---------------------

"Ron! Ron look!" Harry said suddenly.

Ron awoke and nearly fell off of the chair. "What? What's wrong?"

Harry said nothing and turned his head to look at Hermione, and Ron followed suit.

"Bloody hell! What do you think it means?" Ron asked, not sure whether to be happy or not.

"I dunno." Harry leaned over and tried to catch a glimpse of Draco in his bed. From what he could see, Draco looked confused. His brow was furrowed and he seemed tense.

But not Hermione.

It was today, on the eighth day...that Hermione smiled.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Yay! All done! The chapter, not the story. :) We still have fear and death to get to. Dun dun dun! Might do a short thing after for the whole bet thing. Hehehe, poor Draco. He'll all confused. Please review. I have some ideas, but if anyone wants to make a suggestion on what their greatest fears could be, feel free! They can have more than one. The next chapter (fear) should be funny. Please review! Much appreciated! -Piper-


	6. Their Worst Fears

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

A/N: I know the movies I'm going to talk about haven't been released in 1996 which is when their sixth year takes place, but I'm taking creative license.

-

Chapter 6

"She's gone bloody insane. Smiling and talking to me like that, like we're...friends."

I know we aren't. But we're not enemies. Enemies hate each other, and I don't hate you.

Her voice interrupted his quiet rant. He had taken to mumbling under his breath so she couldn't hear him. It was safer than thinking, but some of the things he had on his mind, he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

She saw him shake his head. "Is something wrong?" she asked walking up beside him.

He turned his head so slowly, that at first she didn't even know it was moving. When he finally

met her eyes his stare was so cold it could have frozen hell itself.

"No," he ground out and walked ahead quickly.

She stayed behind for a few minutes but quickly caught up with him again.

When he saw her out of the corner of his eye, he almost snapped. He took a deep breath and counted to ten slowly.

"Did you say something?" she asked when she heard him muttering.

He whirled around so suddenly that she had to jump back. Then she found his face inches from hers.

"Shut...up," his voice was a deadly whisper.

The clouded look in his eyes betrayed his tone and spokes volumes of a different story. He was confused.

She wanted to help, to make him understand what she had just figured out herself, but she was pushing all the wrong buttons, so she decided to try a different approach.

"Malfoy?" she began quietly. She saw his eye twitch. "I'm scared."

The effect these words had was incredible. He whirled around for a second time and began looking wildly in every direction.

"What is it? What do you see?" he asked, a note of sheer panic in his voice.

"Nothing...yet," she whispered.

He calmed so quickly, it looked like he was melting. His shoulders slumped, his muscles relaxed and his knees buckled slightly. Then a furious expression dawned on his face.

"Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack!" he yelled.

"No!" she said quickly. "I _am_ scared. Fear is the next thing and I've been trying to figure out what I might see and I realized that I'm scared of a lot of things."

"Like what?" he asked, and kept walking ahead.

She smiled inwardly at his question. "Well, I've always been scared of drowning, but I doubt the forest will suddenly fill up with water."

She seemed to be finished. "Is that it? You said there were a lot of things."

"I know...but I don't want to tell you the rest of them. You'll just make fun of me."

"Granger, stop being so damned childish and tell me," he snapped. "I want to be prepared. I want

to know what the hell I'll be dealing with."

"You think you'll be able to see it? Everything that's happened to us so far has been on an individual basis."

"Shit," he hadn't thought of that. "Who cares. Tell me anyway. I could use a laugh."

"Well..." she began tentatively, "I once saw this Japanese movie that was really scary. I couldn't sleep for a few nights."

"Movie? Oh, that muggle thing where you sit in front of a big screen and watch the people in it move? It's like a portrait but with a plot?"

She laughed at his description. "I guess it is, sort of. But this was really scary," she said voice totally serious.

"What was so fucking scary about it?" he said, wishing she'd hurry up and get to the point.

"There was this little girl and-

His roaring laughter cut her off. "You're scared of a little girl!" He almost fell to the ground laughing so hard.

She didn't know whether to be happy or insulted. On the one hand, she was angry that he wasn't taking her seriously, but on the other hand she was glad that they were having a civil conversation.

She took in the sight of him laughing. He had a huge smile on his face and all malice was gone from his eyes. It was nice, and she wondered how many people had ever seen him like this.

He looked up and saw her watching him. He snapped up so quickly it was as though someone had slapped him.

"What did she look like?" he said trying to even out his voice.

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it abruptly. Her eyes widened with horror.

"Like that!" she shrieked and pointed over his shoulder. "Can you see her! Please tell me you can see her!"

He turned around expecting to see nothing but trees and bushes and let out a yell when he saw the most hideous person he had ever seen in his life.

"Holy shit!" he yelled.

"You can see her?" Hermione asked in astonishment, while hiding behind him.

"Of course I can fucking see her! She's standing five feet in front of me!"

It was hideous. The girl was deathly pale and her face was covered by waist-length and wet jet black hair. She wore a tattered white dress and she was barefoot. Draco thought he had never seen anything that looked less like a little girl.

He heard Hermione whimper behind him. "Oh, come on Granger. She's not that bad," he said trying to lighten the mood.

The girl began walking towards them, hobbling as though both her feet were broken.

"Look, at least we know we can outrun her. Besides, she's kind of cute."

The girl was two feet away now. She began to lift her head up slowly to reveal a horribly grotesque and disfigured face.

"FUCK!" he yelled and dived out of the way as the girl's outstretched hands nearly brushed his chest.

Hermione jumped and landed on the floor next to him. She searched the ground desperately for something, anything that might help. Her eyes lit up as they fell on a thick tree branch. She grabbed it eagerly and thrust it into Draco's hands.

From his position on the forest floor he began swinging the branch violently at the girl. She took a few staggering steps back but did not go away.

They stood up quickly preparing to run, when something occurred to him. "Granger, you have got to deal with this!" he yelled still swinging the branch.

"WHAT! Are you crazy?"

"Think about it logically! Everything else has been about us dealing with it. This is no different.

So hurry up and get over it because if you don't this corpse of a bitch isn't going anywhere!"

He was right and she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to go anywhere near that girl. She had haunted her nightmares for countless nights. Every time she would get near the girl in her dreams...she would die.

"Granger!" he growled warningly over his shoulder. "I am not going to swing this stick forever, so hurry up or I'll hand you over myself!"

She slowly stepped out from behind him to face her fear. The girl immediately forgot about Draco and headed straight for Hermione.

Every fiber of her body was telling her to run, but her brain told her different.

She's not real. She's not real. She's not real.

The girl was a foot away. Hermione determinedly stared her in the face.

The girl was so close, Hermione could smell her. She was shaking with fear but she didn't move.

Not even when she saw a decayed hand moving to touch her. She closed her eyes and waited...but nothing came.

Hermione opened her eyes and the girl was gone.

She collapsed to the ground shaking. "I thought I was dead," she whispered.

"Nope. That doesn't come until later," said Draco cheerfully. "I for one can't wait."

Hermione looked up at him in disbelief. Then she started laughing.

"What?" he said indignantly.

She stood up and began walking. "You should have seen the look on your face."

"She was fucking ugly, okay?" he said defensively.

"It's your turn now. What scares you the most?"

"None of your damn business."

"Oh come on. I told you one of mine."

"So?"

"So, now you tell me. That's kind of how it works."

He was looking determinedly ahead, not saying a word.

SNAP.

"What was that?" Hermione asked looking around.

"What was what?"

SNAP.

"That. Didn't you hear that? It sounds like twigs snapping. I think someone's following us," she whispered.

Suddenly he remembered something from his early childhood. _He stalks his prey before he strikes._

She stopped dead in her tracks and put her arm out to stop him. "What stalks it's prey before it strikes?" she asked almost shaking with fear.

SNAP.

She jumped behind him again. She was about to ask again when the most vile smell reached her nose. It smelled like rotting food mingled with raw sewage.

"His smell was like nothing known to wizard kind," she heard him mutter.

"Malfoy, what on earth are you talking about? Tell me!" she insisted.

SNAP.

"RUN!" he yelled.

He grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her along. She was struggling to keep up with him as he sprinted down the path. More than a few times she almost tripped over a rock or fallen branch but he just kept dragging her along.

She was terrified. If Draco was scared, then they must be running from something horrible.

She chanced a look back and nearly had a heart attack when she saw what was after them.

It was a man. But not just any ordinary man. This man was crazed. He had long, frizzy and unkempt black hair all in tangles with dirt, grass and twigs mixed in. His beard was just like his hair. He had small, black beady eyes that followed their every move and his teeth were bared and they appeared to be sharpened. Drool fell freely from his mouth and he looked to be diseased.

What he was wearing was even more alarming, for he was naked save for a small loincloth which was as dirty as the rest of him.

Given the way he was chasing them, Hermione quickly came to a conclusion: he was going to eat them. He was going to rip them to shreds, roast their bloody carcasses over a fire and eat them.

Unless Draco dealt with him.

They had been running for at least five minutes and the crazed man showed no signs of exhaustion. The same could not be said for the two teens. Draco was panting hard but he was no where near as tired as Hermione. She could barely breath, her legs were burning and it felt like her feet were going to fall off. To top it all off, she was developing a painful stitch in the side of her stomach.

"M-Malfoy, you have t-to stand up to h-him," she choked out the words as best she could. "If y-you don't...he'll just chase us forever!"

If he had heard her, he gave no signs of it whatsoever.

Then he stopped abruptly. He shoved Hermione unceremoniously out of the way and turned around to face the man.

"Come and get me you shit-smelling lunatic," he whispered.

The man got closer and closer. When he was two feet away, Draco lunged forward with all his might, fully poised to knock the man out. However, as soon as his feet left the ground, the man disappeared and Draco hit nothing but air before falling to the ground.

"What...who was that?" she asked picking herself up off of the ground.

"The Maniacal Muggle."

She couldn't help the small smile that had crept it's way onto her lips. "You're scared of a muggle?"

He noted the amusement in her voice. "You saw what he was like!"

"Malfoy, muggles are not like that. I bet that's just something wizard parents made up to scare their kids into going to bed. Like the Boogey man."

"Boogey what?"

"The Boogey Man. I guess you could call it the muggle version of your maniac."

They brushed themselves off and continues walking.

"Do you think that was it?" she asked. "I mean, compared to everything else that was kind of easy."

"How the hell should I know. You can never tell with this fucking place."

When she made no response, he turned to look at her.

She wasn't there.

"Oh hell no. I am sick to death of this fucking nightmare! Granger! Where the hell are you!"

Silence.

Shit!

"What?" she asked, curious about his infuriated tone.

When he said nothing, she turned to look at him.

He wasn't there.

"Oh no! Malfoy where are you!" she yelled, looking all around.

I can't believe this!

Granger, is that you?

Obviously. Who else would it be?

Well, where the fuck are you!

In the same place I was before. Wait, are we invisible?

You're asking me? You're the one with the abnormally large brain. You figure it out.

I'll take that as a compliment. Okay, um, you see that tree over there.

Over where?

Over- never mind. There's no point. Whatever's coming next we obviously have to deal with it ourselves or we won't be able to see each other again.

And that's a bad thing?

Malfoy, this is serious. Just keep walking in the same direction that we were going in before and hopefully we won't end up too far apart.

They walked in silence.

A noise caught his ear.

Did you hear that? he asked

Hear what?

I guess not. Never mind.

Malfoy, be careful.

He heard it again. It sounded like shuffling, like someone walking with great difficulty.

A flash of white caught his eye.

He walked cautiously forward. More white...and now red. When he got close enough he finally saw that whatever had been trying to walk had now collapsed.

It was a person. A woman with extremely blonde hair wearing a startlingly white dress.

But the dress was ruined. Tainted. The back of it was covered with blood. Freshly spilt blood that was flowing freely from the woman's back.

Draco swallowed the bile that threatened to spill out of his mouth and removed the knife from the woman's back, making the blood flow more freely still. The knife was silver, with a snake around the handle.

His father's knife.

Slowly, he rolled her over and his worst fears were confirmed.

"NOOOO!" he yelled so loud he was sure he felt his throat tear. "Mum! Mum, wake up. Please, wake up!"

He sat there shaking her violently to no avail.

His brain was melting. Everything he had ever known had ceased to exist. The only person who had ever truly cared for him was gone.

Suddenly, nothing mattered. Not what house he was in, or how good he was at Quidditch or who his friends were. Nothing mattered because his mother was dead. She had been a pureblood, she had been a Slytherin...and it didn't save her.

A sudden burst of feeling hit him as he imagined all those who had ever lost a loved one because of his father and the others. The random, unnecessary killings all ended in this. They were feeling the exact same thing he was feeling right now. Pain. Utterly...miserable...pain. And there was nothing he could do about it. He felt something he had never felt before.

Helplessness. There was nothing he could do. His mother was dead and there was nothing he could do.

Why her? Out of everyone in the whole world why did it have to be her? It just didn't make any sense.

He looked at her pale face. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed and she was frowning.

Something squeezed his heart and he let out a hacking sob. He didn't care that he was crying, nothing mattered anymore. She was dead. There was no reason to keep going. Why? What would he go back to?

No. He would stay here, with her, near her. Forever.

He bent over her and kissed her forehead.

I'll never leave you.

What?

He looked around wildly for the source of the voice. "Who's there?"

They've come back for her. Well, they can't have her! I won't let them take her!

Malfoy, what on earth are you talking about? It's me, Hermione. Remember?

Hermione? What the hell? What's going on?

Where in the painting remember?

She was getting nervous. Why didn't he remember?

Painting? _No! Mother's dead. They killed her! I'm staying here with her. _

Malfoy, no! It isn't real! Your Mum's fine. She's at home and she's alive.

No she's dead! She's right in front of me and she's dead!

? 

Listen to me, Malfoy. Whatever you're seeing...it isn't real. It's a trick. Your mother is not dead. Trust me!

He looked at her again. She was there, she was really there. How could she not be real?

Malfoy, do exactly as I say and I promise you will see your real mother soon. Listen, just get up and walk away. She's not your mother. Just walk away. Forget about her. She's not there.

He didn't know who to trust. He didn't know who to listen to. His brain was registering what he was seeing: his dead mother. But the voice in his head pulled at his heart strings and gave him a small hope.

What if she _was _alive?

Then, he did one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He walked away from her. He pushed her out of his mind and walked on, tears still flowing.

He was five feet away when he turned...and she was gone. Not even a drop of blood was left over.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. Everything came back to him and he couldn't believe that he had been stupid enough to fall for it.

Malfoy! Malfoy! Just leave! I'm telling you she's not real!

Calm down! I know.

Oh thank goodness. I thought I lost you for a second there.

Yeah, so did I.

Shhh! Did you hear that? It sounds like shouting.

I don't hear anything. Whatever it is, ignore it.

"Ron! RUN!" Harry yelled jumping out from behind a bush.

Ron suddenly sprinted down the path. The blaze of green behind him was catching up.

Then it hit.

He flew five feet forward and landed hard on the ground...dead.

"RON!" Hermione yelled and ran towards him.

She looked up eyes streaming and saw Harry running wildly towards her.

"Ron," he whispered, almost choking on his own tears. "Hermione where are you?" he whispered into the air.

"Harry I'm right here!" She made to grab his shoulder but she felt nothing but air.

Suddenly, Harry whipped around.

Standing behind him was Voldemort with a horribly sinister smile on his face.

"At last. There is no one here to die for you this time, Potter. You. Are. Dead."

It was now that Hermione realized that Harry did not have his wand. And yet, he stood there bravely. He would not die a coward.

"Do your worst, you bastard," Harry spat out viciously.

"Nothing would satisfy me more," he hissed before raising his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

It happened in slow motion. Hermione saw the spell. She saw Harry close his eyes and brace himself for the worst.

She ran and threw herself in front of Harry, but it was no use. The curse sailed right through her giving her an eerie, empty feeling and hit Harry straight in the chest. He landed in a crumpled heap next to Ron.

Voldemort's evil laughter rang through the forest.

"No! No, please! Harry, Ron, wake up! You can't be dead...you just can't be."

I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have helped.

Granger! Granger, listen to me. It's time to take your own advice. Whatever you're seeing isn't real. Just get up and walk away from it.

They're dead. They're both dead. And it's all my fault. I should have been there. I should have helped.

Granger, look I know it's hard but you've got to get up and leave! Trust me, the sooner you leave, the sooner you'll see them again!

Trust you? How can I trust you! You're on their side!

I'm not! And even if I was, that doesn't change the fact that whatever you just saw is not real! Now calm the fuck down and snap out of it! Don't you WANT to see them again?

Poor, logical Hermione. Looking right at the dead bodies of her two best friends it was hard to convince herself otherwise.

But there was a small part of her that held on to hope. A small part that thought, 'what if?'

It was that small part that helped her walk away, hoping that she was walking towards something better.

She walked and kept walking. She didn't turn around. She knew if she did, she would run back to them.

Just like her weary companion, it hit her like a ton of bricks.

She fell to the floor with the weight of it all and just cried.

As everything came into focus through her tear filled eyes, she saw him standing there. What shocked her the most was that he actually looked concerned. He wasn't sneering or smirking, he was serious. He knew what she had just been through. She knew that he understood.

Which is why she didn't hesitate to take his hand when he silently offered to help her up.

"They were dead," she whispered. "I saw them die." It was building up inside of her and if she didn't talk about it, she would explode. She knew he understood, and she hoped that he would show it now, when she really needed it.

"What happened?" he asked, looking stoically ahead, voice even.

She silently thanked him for caring enough to ask before she spoke. "I saw Ron running and then he was hit with the Killing curse. Then Harry came over to him and I tried to touch him but I couldn't. That's when V-Voldemort came...a-and...he killed Harry too."

"There was so much blood. I knew it was her the second I saw her but I didn't want to believe it. The knife was so far in...I almost couldn't get it out. My father's knife," he finished in a whisper.

They both knew...it felt good to talk about it.

"But it wasn't real," she said, wiping the final tears from her eyes. "When we get out of here we'll see them and everything will be fine."

"Five down...one more to go."

They walked on in silence.

-

Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I apologize profusely for the lack of updates. I've been favoring HPP3. (Speaking of which the next chapter is on the way and should be out in a few days.) There is definitely one more chapter...maybe two. Almost definitely two. Please review. It's been a while and I've forgotten what one looks like. lol Next chapter: death. Any ideas? It's probably not quite what you'd have in mind but I think it's appropriate. FYI: that Japanese movie was the Ring/Grudge whichever and they both scared the hell out of me! Gave me nightmares. The Ring2 is coming out in March. Definitely going to see that.


	7. To Die Would Be A Great Adventure

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

Chapter 7

It was ridiculous really. That she should think of a song in a situation like this. She didn't even know why she thought of that particular song at that moment, but it just sprung into her head so fast she wondered if the forest had anything to do with it.

She tried mumbling it under her breath because she didn't want to disturb their peaceful silence, but he heard her whispers.

"What?" he asked.

She had gotten so used to his condescending tone over the years that his neutral, even tone took her by surprise at first.

"Nothing," she said, looking at her feet.

"I heard you say something," he said, a hint of annoyance tickling at his tone.

"It was just...a song that I thought of all of a sudden."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"What?" she said, looking at him confused.

"Don't be daft, Granger. Sing it. It's the only way you'll get it out of your head."

She looked at him incredulously. "I most certainly will not. What if-

"Someone hears?" he asked arching an eyebrow and cutting her off.

"No. What if you laugh at me? I can't sing."

"So? Come on, don't you think we need to lighten the mood a bit? After all, we are going to die in a few minutes, remember?"

"That's not funny," she said, seriously.

"No, but your voice probably is," he said smirk firmly in place.

She glared. "Okay. Fine. But only because we're going to die."

He found a comfy looking log and sat back, lounging.

"And only if you sing something too."

He almost fell off of the log. "No," he said firmly. But even as he was so stubbornly disagreeing, a song had crept its way into his subconscious as well.

"Then I won't," she said arms crossed.

He seemed to be struggling mentally before he said, "Fine! God, Granger, you are so...ugh!" he said exasperatedly, making a violent gesture with his hands.

"And I love you too," she said sweetly.

It was out of her mouth before she knew she'd said it. She was so used to saying it to Harry and Ron, it had become like a reflex.

"I didn't mean..." she began, but didn't really know what to say.

He shrugged it off. He understood. It was strange really but he had become accustomed with doing the same to his mother whenever she became upset with him.

He looked at her expectantly, waiting.

She cleared her throat. "If you laugh I swear I'll kill you."

"Empty threat," he drawled, smirking. "Besides, we're going to die anyway and I can't think of a better way to go than at the hands of my most hated nemesis."

"My only _nemesis_, as you so eloquently put it, is Voldemort. And maybe Pansy," she added as an after thought.

"You're stalling," he quipped, accusingly.

"Then stop interrupting," she snapped. She was irritable. She didn't like singing in front of people. But at the same time she was very glad they were actually being nice to each other and not tearing each other to pieces.

She cleared her throat one more time and began.

"Found myself today  
Oh I found myself and ran away  
Something pulled me back  
The voice of reason I forgot I had  
All I know is just you're not here to say  
What you always used to say  
But it's written in the sky tonight

So I won't give up  
No I won't break down  
Sooner than it seems life turns around  
And I will be strong  
Even if it all goes wrong  
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe  
Someone's watching over me

Seen that ray of light  
And it's shining on my destiny  
Shining all the time  
And I wont be afraid  
To follow everywhere it's taking me  
All I know is yesterday is gone  
And right now I belong  
Took this moment to my dreams

So I won't give up  
No I won't break down  
Sooner than it seems life turns around  
And I will be strong  
Even if it all goes wrong  
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe  
Someone's watching over me

It doesn't matter what people say  
And it doesn't matter how long it takes  
Believe in yourself and you'll fly high  
And it only matters how true you are  
Be true to yourself and follow your heart

So I won't give up  
No I won't break down  
Sooner than it seems life turns around  
And I will be strong  
Even if it all goes wrong  
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe  
That I won't give up  
No I won't break down  
Sooner than it seems life turns around  
And I will be strong  
Even when it all goes wrong  
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe  
That someone's watching over  
Someone's watching over  
Someone's watching over me  
Someone's watching over me."

He just sat there, transfixed. "What _can't _she do?" he mumbled angrily. But at the same time he couldn't help but admit she had an annoyingly lovely voice.

When she finished she looked very uncomfortable. He clapped slowly for about three seconds before stopping abruptly. She saw the look on his face and had to ask.

"Was I that bad?"

He scoffed angrily. "You can't be serious, Granger. You know it wasn't bad, so stop trying to be so damned modest."

She was taken aback by his tone. Just when she thought the old Malfoy was dead, he would creep back up again.

She sat down on the log next to him. "Your turn."

He didn't blink and he didn't move. He didn't even try to argue. He just started, which once again surprised her. But nothing surprised her more than his voice.

"It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone  
Something has been taken from deep inside of me  
The secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see  
Wounds so deep they never show they never go away  
Like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played

If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
If I could stand up and take the blame I would  
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would  
If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
If I could stand up and take the blame I would  
I would take all my shame to the grave

It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone

Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past  
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have  
Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back  
And never moving forward so there'd never be a past

If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
If I could stand up and take the blame I would  
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would  
If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
If I could stand up and take the blame I would  
I would take all my shame to the grave

Just washing it aside  
All of the helplessness inside  
Pretending I don't feel misplaced  
It's so much simpler than change

It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone

It's easier to run

If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made  
It's easier to go  
If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
If I could stand up and take the blame I would

I would take all my shame to the grave."

She clapped a great deal more enthusiastically than he had. "Malfoy, that was amazing."

"Why?" he asked.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why songs? Why now? I don't like this. It's like it's trying to trick us. Make us feel comfortable so we fuck up and die. We should keep walking."

He got up from the log and started to walk away. When he didn't hear her coming he turned around. "You coming or what?"

She got up and followed without a word. Of course the forest was trying to lull them, give them a false sense of security, that way they would fail and be stuck here forever.

"Do you really think that's what this was all about?" she whispered.

"Yes. There's no other explanation," he said, face grim.

"I suppose it would make sense. No one has ever made it this far. It doesn't want us to get out." Even as she said it, it made a chill go down her spine and she shivered.

He felt it, her shiver and her doubts, and he was none too pleased.

He stopped to turn and look at her and he looked angry. "Don't do that. We are getting the fuck out of here whether it likes it or not."

She nodded but he could tell she wasn't convinced. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, gray eyes blazing. "Listen to me! I did not come this far to fucking die, okay! _And_ we are _both_ getting out. They're not pinning your death on me. Oh, I bet Potter would love that! They'd finally have a reason to kill me. Not that the Wonder Boy needs one."

"No! Just shut up!" she said, shoving him away.

"Granger, you're coming with me if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you," he said warningly and took a few steps towards her.

She didn't move. Not only was she _not_ scared, she found the whole thing kind of amusing. "You wouldn't," she scoffed, her smile challenging his tone.

He didn't stop advancing until they were face to face. "Try me," he said, voice low and dangerous but with a hint of playfulness.

"Malfoy, wait," she said suddenly, smile fading quickly. "It's happening again."

He looked at her, confused. When his eyes cleared, the anger was evident. "It's trying to distract us. Trying to make us forget we're here."

"I didn't really forget. I just...didn't care anymore. It felt like-

"We're supposed to be here."

She nodded.

"We keep walking," he said finally. "And this time...we don't stop. I don't care what we randomly think of. Whatever it is just say it out loud and keep walking. Got it?" he finished rather harshly.

She nodded again.

"Let's go."

And on they walked.

"How long do you think before we-

"I don't know. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get out."

"Or we die," she whispered.

He literally growled next to her making her shy away from him.

"Sorry," she apologized.

Something caught her eye. "Do you see that?" she asked pointing somewhere off to the side.

He turned to look. "Yeah. Ignore it."

"But...look it's a dog! And it looks hurt."

"Screw the dog, Granger! Do you ever want to get out of here?"

She turned away and when she looked back the dog was gone.

They walked on for a few more minutes before she heard him whisper, "What the hell?"

"What?"

"Over there. It can't be."

She looked where he was pointing and she couldn't believe what she saw. Harry and Pansy were walking parallel to them a few feet away, further in the forest.

"It's not possible," he said shaking his head as if to clear it and rubbing his eyes.

"Unless, they got sucked in too," Hermione reasoned.

"No. There is no way they would have gotten this far so quick," he argued back.

She could see he was battling with himself. He wanted it to be Pansy just as bad as she wanted it to be Harry. But deep down they both knew it wasn't real. And yet it was still nice to see a familiar face.

We keep walking, he thought not wanting to be heard, and she nodded.

SNAP.

He had stepped on a twig and the sound had echoed loudly throughout the forest. Pansy and Harry heard the noise and quickly rushed over.

"Fuck!" he whispered when he saw them coming over.

"Oh my God!" Pansy squealed and threw herself at Draco.

Harry also looked surprised. "Mione!" he said hugging her tightly.

Hermione felt the tears forming in her eyes as she hugged him. How long until she would feel the real thing? He finally let go and looked at her, green eyes sparkling.

"We didn't think we would ever find you," he said.

"You were looking for us?" she asked uncertainly, wanting with ever fiber of her being for him to be real.

"Of course! You didn't think I would leave you here with him did you? Come on."

He took her hand and began leading her in the opposite direction they had been going. Pansy did the same with Draco.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"We're taking you home," said Pansy.

"But we're going the wrong way!" Hermione yelled, trying to take her hand back.

His grip tightened and she panicked. "Draco, help! He won't let go!" she cried, desperate.

Draco wrenched his hand from Pansy's iron-like grip and pushed her away roughly, while Harry was now dragging Hermione harder and faster.

Draco caught up quickly and stood right in front of the path, blocking the way. "You're not going anywhere with her, Potter."

"Who's gonna stop me...you?" he smirked. His grip on her had not loosened.

"Potter...you have _no_ idea how much I'm going to enjoy this."

He made to turn around but instead swung his fist full force and punched Harry straight in the face. He staggered and finally let go of Hermione's hand, which was starting to bruise, and she ran behind Draco.

As soon as Harry got up, Draco proceeded to beat the crap out of him. He punched, kicked and head-butted every part ofhim he could reach. When he was satisfied, he got up, panting and sweating slightly, grabbed Hermione's hand and they ran back in their intended direction.

For whatever reason, she looked back and screamed when she saw the Harry and Pansy doubles chasing after them full speed.

But you almost killed him, she thought frantically.

There's no way! He doesn't even have a scratch on him. That's because he's not real! he argued with himself.

The fatigue from running was starting to set in.

We can't run forever, she thought.

I know! Let me think. Wait a minute. I think we have to kill them.

What! Draco, have you lost your mind?

No. Think about it. The next thing is death. Can you think of a more fucked up way to deal with death than having to kill the people we care about?

No, but I can't kill Harry.

Then I will. You can do Pansy.

He stopped abruptly and she jerked backwards. Then they turned around bracing themselves. The clones flew at them as soon as they were within striking distance. Draco tackled the Harry clone before it could get to him, but the Pansy clone bowled over Hermione and knocked her to the ground.

She was panicking. She had never been in a physical fight before. Slapping Draco in third year was the extent of her fighting experience, not counting the headlock Millicent Bulstrode had put her in in second year's Dueling Club. And now she was fighting for her life.

She knew Draco was probably having the time of his life beating Harry to a pulp, even if it wasn't really him. She, however, was not going to enjoy killing Pansy, even if it wasn't really her. But she had to do something because Pansy was on top of her trying to gauge her eyes out. She would have succeeded had Hermione not finally gotten up the courage to knee her in the stomach. Pansy rolled off of her and Hermione was able to get up.

Hermione took a chance and ran at her, arms outstretched and hands balled into fists. She punched every part of Pansy she could get to, but Pansy pushed her roughly away and her head made painful contact with the ground. Hermione shook it off and got back up quickly. She ran at Pansy again, slamming her into a tree. The dull crunch and now limp form of the clone told Hermione she had cracked her skull. Then she vanished.

Another sickening crack filled the air. Hermione looked over at Draco and found him on the ground. Apparently, he had broken the Harry clone's neck and he was now sitting against a tree looking very much worse for the wear.

His left eye was developing a bruise, his lip was cut and bloody, he had another bruise forming on his neck and he had scratches on his right cheek. She also noticed that he was holding his left forearm.

"The little fucker bit me. Stupid git," he snarled, trying to get up but having some difficulty.

She went over to him and put her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. He hissed in pain as she helped him up.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, but that tree over there did. And the ground. Let's just get out of here."

After walking for a few minutes, the landscape began to change dramatically. Fewer and fewer trees surrounded them until there were no more and the grass thinned until they were walking on nothing but dried up dirt. The land they were walking on now resembled a huge plateau.

"Do you think this means we're almost there?" she asked, hesitantly.

"I sure as hell hope so. I've had enough of this place. And I don't think I can walk anymore," he grudgingly admitted.

As if in answer to his comment, they came upon a cliff.

Beyond the cliff there was nothing, no other side for them to try and jump across to. The land had just literally ended. This was it.

They looked left and right but the cliff stretched for as far as they could see. They peered over the cliff and gulped. Water and Rocks. Big, sharp, rocks.

They collapsed to the ground, half out of exhaustion and half out of disbelief.

"What do we do now? I mean, is this it? Did we do something wrong?" she asked, close to hysterics.

"I doubt we took a wrong turn if that's what you mean." He was lying flat on his back, eyes closed and breathing heavily.

She was looking at him when it occurred to her. She spoke barely above a whisper.

"We have to die."

"What?" he asked, not quite catching it.

"We have to die," she said again, slightly louder, and this time he sat up.

"What!"

"We have to _deal_ with death. We have to be okay with knowing we're going to die. We have to be _willing_ to die. I think we have to jump," she finished, throat dry.

He looked so much like he wanted to argue, but he knew it made sense.

They was nothing beyond the cliff, there was no way around it, and they sure as hell weren't going back.

This was it...the end.

She saw the conclusion slowly form in his eyes and he slowly got to his feet with her help.

The short walk to the edge of the cliff seemed to take hours, even though it was mere feet away.

Holding on to each other for support, they both closed their eyes.

You ready?

Yes...Draco?

Yeah?

Thank you...for everything. I wouldn't have made it this far without you.

Your welcome. And thank you...Hermione.

Squeezing each other tightly and without another thought...

They jumped.

Dun! Dun! Dun! Next chapters the last one. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading. Piper


	8. Waking Up is Hard to Do

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

o**o**o

Chapter 8

She didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't this.

They were falling...actually falling.

The wind licked at her face and whipped her hair about. And all the while, she held on to him.

We're going to hit the water, he thought in a calm voice. It was like he didn't care anymore.

Before she could respond, she was stabbed by a thousand knives. At least that's what it felt like when she hit the freezing water. It was so cold, it burned. It seemed likely that the rocks they had seen from above were really just frozen chunks of water, mini-icebergs.

Was it even worth it to try and stay afloat? Should they even be trying to tread water? Their whole bodies ached. They were physically and mentally drained and they just wanted it to end once and for all.

No words or thoughts were needed. They stopped treading and sank.

That first breath under water was interesting to say the least. The icy water gripped the inside of their mouths and coated their throats as it made its way into their lungs and grasped them in its frigid grip.

Their minds clouded, their grips loosened and they drifted apart.

o**o**o

"Broaden your minds! Let the magic of the crystals speak to you."

The class had spent the last half hour putting small different colored crystals in a soft velvet pouch, shaking them and dumping them out on the table only to find that they had to try and figure out what they meant once they had landed.

When they found out that Trelawney would be substituting for Firenze that day, they had almost left. But since they were failing the class they decided against it. Now...they were regretting their responsible decision.

Harry and Ron were trying desperately not to fall asleep but it was becoming more and more difficult by the minute. They both thought the present exercise was a colossal waste of time. Until...

"Hey Harry, have a look at this," said Ron.

Harry forced his eyelids open and managed a very intelligent, "Huh?"

"Look at the crystals."

"Ron, this is all rubbish," he said closing his eyes again.

"I know, but this can't just be a coincidence."

It was his tone more than anything that made Harry look. The seemingly random arrangement meant nothing to him but Ron seemed adamant.

"This square green one next to this round pink one means 'an awakening'. And the way this clear one is faced means 'a lost mind, found'. It's Hermione. It has to be!" he whispered urgently.

This woke Harry up instantly. "Are you sure?"

Ron nodded vigorously.

Making up their minds, they waited until Trelawney was fawning over Parvati and Lavender's crystals to make a run for the door.

They ran down the hall and stopped at the painting, surprised to see Pansy there.

"What're you-

"They're gone," she whispered. "We could always see them before, but look...they're not there anymore."

Harry and Ron looked at the painting. Pansy was right. They could always see them just at the edge of the forest...but they were gone.

"We better get to the hospital wing," said Harry, trying to keep his tone neutral. He didn't want them to know how worried he was.

o**o**o

She was cold, very cold and it was hard to breath...at first.

She was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid she would be back in the forest or still in the water. She was afraid...until she heard him stir next to her.

Slowly and with much difficulty she forced open her eyelids. Her very eyes felt sore and the blinding light didn't help, so she closed them again. She felt like all she wanted to do was sleep.

She heard it again. The sound of skin on cloth. She recognized it because it was the same thing she heard when she moved.

Where am I? she wondered, thinking that wherever it was, she was content because she didn't care anymore.

Hopefully we're dead, came his lazy response.

Draco?

Duh.

Where are we?

Dunno. Haven't opened my eyes yet. They hurt.

Mine too. But we probably should. Just so we know.

Yeah, yeah. Don't nag.

He really didn't want to open his eyes, for the same reasons as her. But he figured he was going to have to find out eventually, so why not sooner than later.

Just a crack. That's as far as he opened his eyes to let them get accustomed to the light.

He saw a stone ceiling and felt something soft and white underneath him. He chanced a look to the side, turning his neck slowly, and he saw her looking back at him tears already welling up in her eyes.

"We're back," she whispered, voice hoarse.

She saw his eyes widen slightly before, "YEEAAHH!"

His yell was so loud she had to cover her ears, but she was laughing all the same.

He jumped off of the bed and she wasn't far behind.

"No bruises, no blood, no scars. I'm not even sore!" he said after examining himself.

Just then Madame Pomfrey ran into the room with Harry, Ron and Pansy not too far behind.

Draco's yell came no where near the yells that now filled the room. If Draco and Hermione weren't sore before, they were definitely sore after the thousand and two hugs they received. And after the nurse's very thorough examination.

They were bombarded with questions that neither of them felt ready to answer and the others respected that.

"But you're okay right?" asked Harry, still looking slightly worried.

"I'm fine. I promise. I'm just tired."

"Which is a little odd considering you just spent the last two weeks sleeping," said Ron.

Harry could have slapped him. "Two weeks! I'll never be able to catch up! I'll fail! I won't be Head Girl!"

Correction, Harry did slap him.

"There were so many times I thought you weren't going to make it," Pansy whispered. She was sitting on the edge of his bed eyeing him closely, a hint of sadness still in her voice.

"And why's that?" he asked.

"I don't know. It's just...if you could have seen the look on your face. We knew. We could see when you were happy or sad or...in pain. And I know you and I know it takes a lot to get to you. That's why I was worried."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was true, wasn't it. He looked over at the other bed and saw the three of them smiling together.

"It's a good thing she was there," Pansy said also looking at the trio. "Who knows what would've happened."

He gave her a stern, questioning look but she said nothing. She got up and kissed his cheek softly.

"Sleep. I'll see you later."

Instead of leaving, however, she walked over to Hermione's bed and did the unthinkable. She gave her a hug.

Hermione stiffened at first while glimpses of her forest rumble with the Pansy-clone flashed vividly in her mind.

She whispered softly so only Hermione could hear, "Thank you. I know he wouldn't be here if you hadn't helped."

Getting over the initial shock she answered, "It went both ways."

Then Pansy left.

What the hell was that all about? Draco wondered.

"She was just saying thank you," Hermione answered.

The answer was out of her mouth before she realized that he hadn't actually spoken it.

Bloody hell! he mentally screamed. _Will the torture never end?_

he mentally screamed. 

He proceeded to hit himself over the head with his pillow.

"Who was just saying thank you?" Ron asked confused. "And what's wrong with him?"

"Too many things to count," said Harry. "Come on Ron, we better get to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid's got a new hybrid to show us. I think it's a cross between a Niffler and a Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"Oh joy."

"It's great to have you back, Mione," Harry said giving her one last hug, followed by Ron. "We'll let you sleep now."

"It's good to be back."

The room was empty now save for the two very tired teens.

Draco had finally stopped beating himself with his pillow long enough to lay down on it, but only because the nurse had threatened to tie him down if he didn't.

In all the confusion, neither of them had noticed until just now.

The last thought he heard that night as he drifted off to sleep was the cause of many nightmares.

We're in the hospital. I win.

o**o**o

THE END! Finally, right? Thanks for all those who have been there since the beginning. Oh, and I know Pansy was kind of ooc but I like her in this story. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks again! Piper1019


End file.
